


MI6 Secret Santa: Twelve Days of Christmas

by lilyrose14



Category: 00Q - Fandom, James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: And rocket launchers in Q branch, Bond is bad at gifts, Bond loves Q's cats, Bond pines, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Q gets snarky, Q pines, The minions are out of control, There are remote control tanks, They are both clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyrose14/pseuds/lilyrose14
Summary: Chaos ensues in Q branch when head E.L.F. Kasia organizes the annual MI6 Secret Santa gift exchange. Q and James are both hopelessly clueless. Eve and Kasia are the only ones who know what is going on. You'll just have to read it to figure out the rest.This was intended to be a short story, but alas, it exploded and became a novella.  I hope it's engaging enough to keep you reading to the end.  (Fingers crossed.)Happy holidays Kasia!!





	1. Head E.L.F.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherrygoldlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygoldlove/gifts).



The annual MI6, Q branch secret Santa gift exchange was coming up and Kasia, minion number eleven was already bouncing off the walls with excitement as she was FINALLY recognized as the chairperson for the Official Q branch holiday party and secret Santa organizing committee or what she liked to call the “Everyone Loves Festivities” committee. And now SHE was the head E.L.F. She even had a hat she’d been waiting to wear all year, much to Q’s dismay when she walked in wearing it on December 1st. She’d wanted to wear it as soon as Q had approved her for the position, but her mother had always warned her to keep her holiday happiness under wraps until at least late November. She had been waiting for this opportunity all year when Leonard, minion number twelve who had been in charge of the party last year got transferred to go work for MI5. Kasia had been dropping subtle hints to Q every time another holiday passed on the calendar that she would be willing to take on the responsibility, but Q had ignored her. She had to admit hinting at Valentine’s day about her interest in planning for the following Christmas might have been a tad over zealous, so she held back a bit at Easter, but when Q still wouldn’t agree to her taking over when she approached him in June, on the Queen’s birthday she really started to get frustrated. They worked for Queen and country, how could Q not take her seriously on this day of all days? It was already JUNE, she only had six months to get this organized. She took small solace in Q’s reassurance that she shouldn’t worry, promising that he hadn’t given any one else the responsibility. It wasn’t until Guy Fawkes day in November as Kasia was starting to literally vibrate with energy, before Q finally gave in. “Fine Kasia, go ahead, you can be in charge. But don’t over do it.” Q walked away grumbling about how much he lamented the tradition, mumbling something about never getting a good secret Santa, and how Dan in cyborgs had never appreciated the effort Q made at coming up with creative gifts. 

Kasia smiled, because while Q had only just given her permission, truth was she already had it all planned, she just had to put it all into action and she was determined that her boss would have a better holiday this year then in the past. Especially since everyone knew that last year Q had been silently grieving the fact that James had left with that woman Madeleine and even worse, James had asked Q for the Aston Martin that Q had so lovingly rebuilt. Bond had been gone for ten months before coming back to MI6. No one knew for sure if James had walked away from her, or if she walked away from him, regardless he had come back ready to go, acting like nothing had happened and no one dared to ask. But there was no sign of the Aston Martin. James hadn’t brought the keys back to Q and Q let it go, chalking it up as yet another lost piece of equipment he’d never get back. 

But Kasia and the others had noticed how Q had brightened when 007 had reappeared. Everyone knew Q had a special affection for the broad shouldered agent, even if 007 didn’t seem to realize it. Q was always professional, that is if you consider lying to M in order to let 007 go to Rome, where Bond promptly crashed Q’s very expensive prototype car in the Tiber and then Q following him to Alsace to try to keep M from firing him as professional. Truth was Q wasn’t very good at saying no to Bond. So when Bond used that to his advantage and took the rebuilt Aston away from Q, everyone knew Q had probably offered it willingly, but was then hiding a broken heart because of it. 

Now that Bond was back Q was trying to act like nothing had changed, clearly trying to protect himself. But Kasia wasn’t the only one who had noticed that Q was happier whenever Bond was around. And while he tried to be stern with the agent, his threats about returning equipment now coming with creative and painful fallout if he didn’t, many had noticed the little half smile and the side glance that Q gave Bond when Bond walked away smirking. They weren’t quite back to their previous level of snarky flirtation, but they were getting there.


	2. Q replays the past

Q had honestly forgotten about the folded slip of paper in his pocket that Kasia had handed him at the end of the day. As he unfolded the first crease he saw writing, an explanation of this years guidelines for the gift exchange. He groaned and rolled his eyes, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” he read out loud to Alan, his fluffy gray tabby who now sat looking at him, waiting for dinner. “Bollocks.” It was bad enough when it was just the normal five working days leading up to the holidays. She had also included a calendar. It would officially run for two weeks. Starting Monday the 11th, with two gifts on Friday the 15th and two gifts on Monday the 18th to cover the weekend, since technically they weren’t required to work weekends, although many of them did anyway. The twelfth day would happen on Friday the 22nd at the annual branch holiday party since Christmas Eve was Sunday and Christmas day was Monday. Q sighed in exasperation. The directions continued, “in the spirit of spreading the joy, Secret Santa had been expanded beyond Q branch with all eligible office staff and agents invited to participate.” Alan still sat there listening, but Ada was now rubbing along his shins. “Shit,” Q shook his head. He really should have taken Kasia’s request more seriously and paid more attention to her questions. He vaguely remembered her asking him about expanding the participants and he seemed to recall nodding without really processing what she had said. “All assignments had been made confidentially and drawn out of a hat (Kasia’s ELF hat of course), so if it turns out you got your own name, let me know as soon as possible and I will resort those who needed reassignment,” Q puffed out his cheeks again and pursed his lips both cats now meowing in frustration that he hadn’t fed them yet. “Yes, yes,” he hummed, “you two first.” He tossed the piece of paper on his coffee table and headed to the kitchen to feed them and find something for how own dinner but found nothing edible in the refrigerator. “Curry take away it is,” he mumbled and headed back to the living room to find his phone. Twenty minutes later, 10 quid paid to the delivery boy he turned and saw Ada sniffing at the folded paper and reached for it just before she batted it onto the floor. It had occurred to him that maybe if he was lucky he had gotten his own name and he could just keep that quiet and buy himself things he liked and he smiled at that idea. Then he realized he had to at least look, because as much as he hated this he didn’t want to be responsible for ruining someone else’s holiday by ignoring it. 

Q had the ability to maintain a calm façade at nearly all times. He was famous for it. His ability to stay steady in the face of danger, not panic under pressure and have quick hands when he needed to navigate difficult situations made him a well respected leader for Q branch. Everyone always assumed Q was unflappable. Even Moneypenny his closest confident, his pub partner after tough nights at MI6 had never seen Q lose his shit. Only his cats, Ada and Alan got to witness Q when he was truly exuberant, when he would dance uninhibited in his pants in the living room to his favorite music, when he would cry, tucked up on his sofa under a quilt whenever he got his heart broken, and when he would slam the door cursing the agents who didn’t follow directions and lost his equipment, or worse when they got hurt on his watch and he felt the guilt and responsibility overtake him. Which was why no one knew how flabbergasted he was when he saw the name James Bond on the inside of his folded paper. “Fucking hell!” he said out loud and dropped the paper on the floor like it had zapped him. 

He picked up the paper quickly and turned it over to read the summary again. “All eligible office staff and agents invited…” Q read out loud. “007 signed up for this? I don’t believe it! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” Q sat on the couch, Ada, his silver tipped blue jumping onto the cushion beside him as he let his head fall back, eyes staring at the ceiling. He felt Ada bump his elbow with her head. He reached for her and hauled her up, holding her nose to nose. “Ada… I’m Bond’s secret santa. What am I going to do?” Ada leaned in and bumped her nose to Q’s in a reassuring gesture before twisting in his hands to be put down leaving Q to sit and stew about what it. 

~~~

For months Q had been trying to figure out his relationship with Bond. Gone for nearly a year, leaving Q with a heart broken unrequited crush he had reappeared and Q hadn’t known what to do. He had heard rumors that Bond was back, but it was several days before the surly agent had made an appearance in Q branch, not until after he had once again been cleared for duty, a mission folder in hand. Q already knew it of course, he had been sent the equipment requisition form the afternoon before, but he was still unprepared to see the agent strolling nonchalantly into Q branch, requisite smirk on his clean shaven face, bespoke suit sliding over a tailored button down. 

All heads turned, as not everyone knew Bond was back but James ignored them all, walking straight into Q’s office and dropping the folder on his desk in front of him. “Hello Q.” James said with a smile. 

Q had seen him coming and promptly busied himself in paper, not looking up when the folder landed in front of him. He just reached out his open hand, palm up. 

“What?” James said. 

Q still didn’t lift his head, he just flexed his fingers and said, “keys.” 

James rolled his eyes and rocked back on his heels. “Bloody hell Q.” 

It was only then that Q looked up, his serene green eyes looking over the top of his black framed glasses. “No?” 

“No.” James said, pursing his lips tightly. 

“As I suspected,” Q said quietly. “Right.” He stood, both hands on his desk he leaned forward, still looking up at Bond. “New mission. I’ll get your equipment.” He stood, walked around his desk and handed James a metal box that had been on the sideboard. “Here you are.” 

James smiled as he reached for the box, he had missed carrying one of Q’s Walthers these last months. But then his smile faded when he felt how light the box was. He flipped it open and pulled out a paperclip from the perfectly formed paperclip shaped foam in the center of the box. He held it up to Q. “You are joking right.” 

“No, actually I am not.” Q said before sitting back down and reaching into his desk for Bond’s travel documents. “Here is your passport and plane ticket.” 

“Q…” James said with a whine. “A paperclip?” 

“Yes, a paperclip.” Q said.

James furrowed his brow and looked at it. “Does it do anything?”

“It holds paper together.” Q said. 

“Ha ha. Q if this is about the Aston…”

Q shook his head. “I never expected to see it again, or you again for that matter, so no, it’s not about the Aston.” Q looked up at him and they looked at each other, holding each other’s gaze longer then was comfortable, both men trying to read the other and neither seeing what they had hoped to see. “Although honestly the paperclip is all that you truly deserve.” 

“Q…”

But Q kept talking. “It’s actually a microwire that you can use to tap communication devices, unlock doors and I suspect you could puncture a person with, if you so choose. It unfolds with the heat of your touch when you press your fingers on the inner bend. And stays stiff until you press fingers to both ends at the same time.” Q had taken the clip from 007 to show him how it worked, refolding the wire into it’s original shape instantly. This end is currently coded to open a security box in Berlin, where you will find your Walther and other tech to use while you are away.” Q pointed to the larger end at the outside of the clip. “The company you are to infiltrate has been sending out electronic feelers, suspecting they are being watched and I didn’t want you intercepted at the airport with a gun. You’ll retrieve it when you arrive.” 

James was literally beaming as he watched Q manipulate the wire. “That is fucking amazing! When did you invent this?” 

Q looked at him with a deadpan expression. “While you were on vacation with Madeleine Swann, apparently destroying my Aston Martin again.” 

“Q…” James had stepped right into that. He had much he wanted to say to Q, explanations to offer, apologies to give but Q gave him no time. 

“No worries 007. That one wasn’t a prototype, just vintage.” Q looked at his watch and then reached forward, handing James the clip. “Bugger, I’m late for a meeting.” 

“Q…” James knew he was being dismissed and he wasn’t ready to leave yet. He still had so much more he wanted to say. 

“Good luck 007. I hope the first mission back goes smoothly. And if you don’t bring back your equipment, including my microwire, I will use my second one to do things to you you’d rather I wouldn’t.” 

“Right,” James nodded. “Good to know you have two.” He was good at reading people and he could tell how angry Q was with him from his body language. He resorted to flippancy to try to stave it off.

Q stepped around James and left him standing at the desk. “You can see yourself out.” Q walked out of his office before quickly turning around one more time, “welcome back 007. Good to see you again.” Then he turned again calmly towards the elevator, no one seeing his hand shaking when he pushed the button, trying to get his emotions at seeing James back under control. 

James watched Q walk away before frowning and letting out a great sigh, “well I fucked that up.” 

~*~

It had taken Q about a week to come to terms with 007’s return. And then it took about two more before he realized he was never going to get over his crush. Mostly because Bond insisted on being charming and devilishly funny and hanging around Q branch more then he needed to for missions. Two months back on the job and his humor, especially when out on a mission and talking to Q through his ear piece was particularly on point now that he had returned and Q couldn’t help the smiles that slipped across his mouth, even as he kept up his disinterested snarky banter, knowing Bond couldn’t see Q’s expression, because Q was careful this time to keep his flirtation in check. 

Q never expected that Bond would return his feelings. But he realized he now had a unique opportunity to impress the man who drove him to distraction. He looked at the calendar. He had one week to get organized. “Time for some online shopping,” he said to Alan who slept soundly against his hip.


	3. On the first day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…  a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the first day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Head E.L.F. Kasia watched with glee as the official Q branch Secret Santa began. She had of course, with the help of several other minions snuck in late on Sunday to decorate. The look on Q’s face when he came in at 7:30 on Monday morning suggested she had perhaps taken things just a bit too far, but she had been careful in her decorating planning and knew everything was flame retardant as well as within other safety codes. The banners with Santa flying in a jet fueled sleigh, with cyborg reindeer each festooned with military grade antlers fitted with weapons were 100% inspired by MI6 R and D, and the live evergreen trees that spun on axis plates which rotated every minute showing off the LED synchronized lights were a thing of beauty. She had plans to add something new to office everyday but realized she may need to be a bit more subtle next time.

“Really Kasia?” Q had mumbled with a sigh as he walked by her desk, but she saw that little smile as he walked into his office. She knew he liked it. If she just happened to get up and walk quickly for the break room when Q saw what she had done to his office once he got inside and she heard her name loudly called, well, she still knew he liked it. 

The biggest challenge with a Secret Santa exchange at MI6 was that everyone was essentially a spy. So finding ways of leaving your secret gift without getting caught was raised to a level most people in the normal world would fail to appreciate. The easiest and most boring way was just to use interoffice mail and let Gerald deliver it for you on his daily rounds. Many people, especially the busy senior directors who spent most of their days in meetings had to use this route. But the minions were more creative. This year by lunch time on day one, people were already growing accustomed to the sound of drones flying over head and the plop of a gift on a desk before the drone vanished through the door. 

Q’s first gift was actually already on his desk when he arrived. His secret Santa must be on the early shift he quickly surmised. Although he was pleasantly surprised to discover the earl gray tea was perfectly brewed, and the orange cranberry scones were still warm. He smiled as he tucked in and took a bite of one, the scone nearly melting in his mouth. They had been packaged in a cardboard box, and wrapped in cellophane. The tea delivered in a lovely floral chintz ceramic travel mug with a reusable polypropylene lid. He didn’t know any local bakeries that used boxes like this. Homemade? He doubted it. All he knew was so far his secret Santa gift, just on day one alone had made up for all the crap gifts he had received from Trevor in the auto shop last year. 

~~~

Leaving gifts for Bond was actually pretty easy, as Q had access to his tracker program and knew where he was all the time. Not that Q checked it regularly when Bond was in London and not on a mission. Really, a few times a day was hardly regularly, Q told himself. But now it actually came in handy, and Q waited until he knew Bond was running on the track to sneak down to the locker room and slide the gift into 007’s locker. 

Post shower, wrapped in a too small towel James opened his locker to dress, only to discover the box of scotch whiskey flavored chocolates wrapped in a gold bow on the top shelf next to his shaving kit and comb. He smiled, then quickly looked around to see who else was in the locker room with him. 002 had just walked in and nodded. Two other young men, who clearly looked like Q branch minions, a bit pale and a bit under muscled both looked away in fear when 007 glanced at them, and then the third whom Bond caught looking at his arse barely covered in the thin towel wrapped around his hips, looked up and immediately blushed. James snickered and dropped his towel on purpose, flexing his glutes as a gift to the man in the corner, hearing both shoes the man had been holding suddenly clatter to the floor. No one could say James wasn’t generous. Then he frowned, “shit,” he muttered, he had forgotten the first day of this damn Secret Santa thing and didn’t have anything for his person. Why he had let Eve talk him into participating was beyond him, but Eve always seemed to get her way. He had only done this because he had wanted to give Q presents. He was doing all he could to get back in Q’s good graces and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. But when he had cornered Kasia and demanded he get to search her E.L.F. hat with all the papers in order to find Q’s name he realized he was too late. Q’s name was already gone. He had grumbled something angrily, then grabbed a random piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. It wasn’t until much later that he actually looked at the name. Now he quickly dressed, searched his bag for something he could leave as a gift, pulled the Christmas sticker off the box of chocolates to adorn his paltry offering and then headed for Q branch. 

~~~

Kasia had been waiting all day for her first secret Santa gift and now as it neared 5:00 she tried not to be disappointed that it appeared her Santa had forgotten. Hard to believe anyone could forget given the literal explosion of holiday cheer that now adorned Q branch, but things happened and really Kasia was beyond thrilled that her enthusiasm had seemed to make so many people happy today. Kasia really had made all the secret Santa names anonymous and she honestly didn’t know who had her name. Heading back to her desk to finish one last email she smiled when she saw there was something on her chair. Her gift! A pack of gum with a Santa sticker on it. She liked gum. She especially liked spearmint gum. Yay! Then when she noticed one of the pieces had been popped out of the foil bubble wrapper she paused, her smile drifting just a bit, only to reappear, because if her Santa needed fresh breath, she was happy to share.


	4. On the second day of….MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the second day of….MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Kasia arrived only fifteen minutes beyond her normal time, needing to stop at the local Primark for wrapping paper and discovered her Santa had already left her gift. She quickly pulled the gift out of the little red and green Christmas bag she found on her desk. It was a CD of Christmas songs! Excitedly she slid it into the CD tray on her laptop and turned up the volume. 

Q immediately came running out of his office with his hands over his ears, an obvious stain of spilled tea on the front of his shirt. “What the bloody hell is that?” he yelled over the cacophony. 

Kasia hadn’t looked carefully at the cover title. “Highland Christmas, Carols for Scottish Bagpipes?” she looked at Q and held it up sheepishly. “How about I just turn it down?” she said quickly in response to Q’s stern look. Q just sighed and reached for the tissues on the corner of Kasia’s desk to mop up the spilled tea on his shirt. 

Later when Kasia noticed everyone was humming “We wish you a merry Christmas” in a slightly off pitched nasal tone, including Q, who when he realized it huffed in dismay and shook his head giving her an eye roll as he walked by her desk, Kasia saw it as a big win. 

~~~

Q’s gift came by Gerald, the inner office mail delivery later that day. A gift basket of cat treats and toys. “For your two cats and a little something for you.” He opened the bag and discovered a daily cat calendar for 2018 in the bottom, with pictures and feline quotes for 365 days. He looked at the one that was just about empty on his desk and smiled. His Santa paid attention, and knew he had two cats at home. Q’s eyes went wider, there weren’t many people who knew that. “Could it be?” he wondered. 

~~~

James had come in early, a meeting with Tanner on the schedule for 8:00 a.m. and after his last minute gum gift yesterday, he felt a wee bit of obligation to up his game on day two. A quick stop at the local Boots bargain Christmas bin on the way to work and he was pretty pleased with his gift choice. Having thoroughly enjoyed his own gift of whisky chocolates, he was curious to see what might show up on day two. After his meeting with Tanner he headed for the weight room expected to find something in his locker again after his shower. But nothing was there, and feeling rather grumpy about having actually remembered his secret Santa this morning, while he seemed to have been forgotten, he headed for his scheduled time at the gun range to pull a trigger for a while. He was more than surprised to find his gift for the day on the munitions table, the same holiday Santa sticker on the box as he had found on the chocolates. He opened it and smiled finding a bottle of his favorite gun oil, a new cleaning kit and a book on the history of the Walther hand gun. Paging through the book he grinned, before suddenly looking up at the CCTV in the corner, it occurring to him that his Santa somehow knew he was coming here today. This had been waiting for him. Then he snickered realizing Tanner had given himself away. The only person James had mentioned the gun range to today was Tanner during their morning meeting. “Well done Tanner,” James said quietly, trying not to admit that he wished his secret Santa was actually someone else.


	5. On the Third day of….MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the Third day of….MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

“Socks?” James had said out loud as he discovered his new secret Santa gift. It had been left on his desk. The desk he rarely used, but was assigned so he’d have a place to do the paperwork he always avoided in between missions. It had to be Tanner, James thought, Tanner knew after their meeting yesterday that James had been told to get caught up on paperwork before his next mission. “Socks…” he harrumphed, “really Bill, it’s like getting a present from my nan.” Until he noticed that they were expensive wool moisture wicking socks designed for travel. The quality was exquisite and the colors, all half dozen were rich and deep. Soft gray, midnight blue, heather green, coal black, a maroon the color of cabernet, and then one fun pair of light blue with stripes of yellow and green. He took it back, this was an awesome gift. He was suddenly feeling a bit guilty about his gift for today. 

~~~

“More gum?” Kasia had sighed when she found the gift on her computer keyboard. “Well at least the pack is full this time,” as she popped a piece into her mouth, the cinnamon flavor making her mouth tingle. She looked around the room, Minion 9 was playing with a new remote control tank and minion 17 had a huge fluffy pink scarf wrapped around her head. Kasia bit down hard on her back molars nearly choking on the surge of cinnamon flavor she released on her tongue. She coughed, reaching for her water bottle as Q came by. 

“Okay Kasia?” he asked. 

She nodded, her eyes watering, “just needed something to drink,” she choked out, then held up the pack of gum to Q, “gum?” she offered. 

“Thanks,” Q smiled and reached for a piece, popping into his mouth. “Mmmm, cinnamon,” he said as he walked back to his office. 

~~~

Q was in a remarkably good mood today. He had spotted Bond looking pleased as he came out of the gun range wearing striped socks. Q had also had a lovely lunch with Eve as they walked along the Thames just down from Vauxhall bridge and MI6, and he had discovered his third gift. Once again his gift was in his mail where he found a flagged copy of audiophile magazine with a gift card inside for a one year subscription and a box with three vintage vinyl recordings, all holiday themed, Bing Crosby, Peggy Lee and then he chuckled when he saw the compilation holiday album with the Ramones on the cover. Q’s hobby was music, old style vinyl records lining the wall of his flat. Contrary to his life of technology there were some things Q appreciated holding in his hands and appreciated for it’s lack of perfection. The crackly sound of old vinyl records was a reminder of his childhood, the good parts of it, memories of his grandmother’s record collection. 

He frowned, pretty sure he had never mentioned this to anyone. Then he recalled the occasion when he came home late, finding Bond bleeding at his kitchen table. “M didn’t like it when you did this to her, and I don’t particularly like it either,” Q had said when he had opened his door and turned on his light. “Tell me, neither of my cats escaped during your illegal entrance.” 

“They are both here Q, although I think they are hiding in your bedroom. The gray one took one look at me and bolted.” 

“Yes, Ada is quick to figure out friend or foe.” Q said dropping his satchel and walking over to investigate why and where Bond was bleeding. “Eve is better with blood then I am, and honestly medical is the best choice. Why do you insist on breaking into other people’s flats when you are injured?”

“Eve wasn’t home,” Bond acknowledged. 

“Nice to know I was your second choice,” Q quipped before retrieving the first aid kit from under the sink. 

“Third actually, Tanner was out as well,” James said, and then regretted it when Q blotted the injury a bit extra hard with an alcohol pad at the same time. Truth was, Q was his first choice, but he wasn’t willing to admit that.

Q closed his eyes in frustration, “perhaps you’d like to stitch yourself up this time then.” Q dropped the first aid kit on the table and walked away to wash his hands. Alan was peeking from the bedroom door having heard Q’s voice, but the smell of blood coming off 007 continued to keep both cats at bay.

“I can’t reach it.” James protested. “Please? Q…” 

Q pursed his lips and took a breath. Of course he’d do it. He always did what Bond wanted. Without a word he turned and pulling over his elbow lamp from his desk he grabbed the needle and thread, knotted the end then poured more alcohol over the wound making James hiss as he jabbed him without warning. 

James knew not to complain, he deserved this for all the crap he’d put Q through. Q was the one person James gravitated towards at MI6 without knowing why. He was just drawn to the young man. His intellect, his calm demeanor, his wicked sense of humor, his gorgeous green eyes, that hair that James wanted to run his fingers through to see if it was really as soft as it looked. He shook himself back to the present, pushing those thoughts away, knowing Q wasn’t his to touch. He flexed his fingers in frustration trying to sit still and not flinch as he felt Q pull his skin tight. He might not be able to touch Q, but he would focus on the feel of Q’s fingers on him, and the feel of his breath as he leaned in close with the lamp to make sure he had knotted the stitch tight. Then gauze and tape before Q sat back, the gloves he had put on covered in James’ blood. “There, you are done. Any other injuries I need to look at before I kick you out of my flat?” 

James shook his head. “Nope, that little knife wound was it.” He stood, rolling his shoulder just a bit to see how much the stitches would tug. “Thanks Q, you are better at this then anyone else.” 

Q almost smiled at the compliment, but managed to keep it a pursed line, refusing to encourage Bond. He was always conflicted when Bond broke into his flat. He wanted to think it was because Bond liked him, that Bond occasionally thought of him. The way that Q thought of Bond, he hoped. But the reminder that he was actually choice number three still stung. “Well, you should really still go to medical,” Q said with a shake of his head, “antibiotics would help as well.” 

“Nah,” James rolled his shoulder again, following Q to the door, clear that Q wasn’t going to encourage him to stay. “Good as new.” Then James offered Q one of those million dollar smiles, the kind that made his blue eyes crinkle with smile lines. “I owe you for this, just tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” 

“I’ll add it to your long list of IOUs,” Q said feeling his stomach flip at Bond’s flirtation. “I’m not even going to ask about my equipment. We can review that in the morning… in the office.” Q added. James just nodded and finally stepped into the hall letting Q close the door, one man standing on either side until finally Q heard James turn and walk down the hall, the squeaky floor board near the stairs always a give away. 

Now Q looked at the audiophile magazine and smiled, James must have noticed the vinyl records in his flat.


	6. On the fourth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fourth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Q was now absolutely convinced that his secret Santa is James and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. Coming back from a meeting with Tanner and M, Q discovered the bag of holiday socks on his chair with the flier that he was now a member of the “socks of the month” club and each month would be receiving a new pair of cashmere socks at his home address starting in January. To kick things off he had been gifted four pairs for the holidays since it was the fourth day of the gift exchange. He chuckled, James was more creative then he gave him credit for. The first pair had reindeer on them, then there was a snowman pair, a pair with candy canes and the last an overly large pair of soft spun wool with a note to be worn on Christmas. Q was questioning his Santa identification. This seemed like too much for James to pull off. But it had to be James. Yesterday he gave James socks and today he’s getting socks in return. While he would have to dock James points for originality, truth was he only got James six pairs and he would be getting twelve, and they were cashmere, plus the four pair in the bag. Q smiled and quickly untied his blue chukka boots to slip on his new reindeer socks. Wiggling his toes in delight at the feel of the soft fabric. 

~~~

Kasia however was doing her best to keep her spirits up given her secret Santa had sucked it today and apparently completely forgotten her. Minion 8 realized Kasia was getting short shrifted during the week and over lunch volunteered to share her caramel popcorn that had arrived in a big bag on her desk early this morning. And by the end of the day six of the minions, who were beyond delighted with all the effort Kasia had put into E.L.F. season for Q branch had teamed up to make sure Kasia would not be forgotten tomorrow, or the next day. Kasia now had seven secret Santas, even if she didn’t know it. 

~~~

For James it was a very long and unexpected day, as he was sent down to Whitehall for a surveillance and potential reconnaissance mission at Parliament in the late morning, which had turned out to be baby-sitting job that lasted until late evening. Grumpy by the time he got back to his flat he nearly tripped over the box that sat on his doorstep. The secret Santa sticker on the top with a note, the first thing he did was frown and roll his eyes, “fuck, I forgot.” His own secret Santa had received nothing because of his mission at Whitehall, and his frankly, lack of creativity when it came to coming up with anything remotely interesting as a gift. He’d try to do better tomorrow. But he knew his secret Santa was pretty good at this, and so shrugging off his own failure he reached down and picked up the box, tucking it into his elbow to take into the flat and open. 

“Oh Tanner, you smart man, this is just what I needed,” he smiled as he pulled out the highland scotch whiskey sampler pack, six 50ml bottles of some of the best distilleries in Scotland including Mortlach, Benrinnes, Cragganmore, Royal Lochnagar, Glen Fidditch and Glen Cairn as well as two Glen Cairn crystal tumblers. He grabbed one of the new tumblers and a ball of ice and cracked open the Mortlach to pour himself a drink. Kicking off his shoes and loosening his tie before sitting back in his leather side chair, letting a sip of the whiskey warm his mouth as he let it slide over his tongue before swallowing it, then leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Thanks Tanner,” he said quietly, impressed that his Santa had made the effort to bring his gift to his flat, only he would have known that the mission had gone longer then expected.


	7. On the fifth and sixth days of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the fifth (and sixth) day(s) of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

It was Friday, the two-gift day since technically no one was supposed to work weekends, although there was always a skeleton crew on assignment to support agents in the field and everyone knew they were on call if something really big happened. But Kasia was unprepared for the eight gifts she found on her desk. She looked around in surprise but no one was watching, which meant it could have been any of them. Her entire body warmed with happiness. Her own secret Santa was clearly a dud, and she was pretty sure she knew who it was at this point. Maybe including agents hadn’t been a good idea, they weren’t known for their emotional intelligence. But her friends had come through for her. Bottles of lotion, a day calendar for 2018 from Atlas Obscura, gift certificates for the local curry takeout place, a new tape dispenser in the shape of a snail, a collection of Christmas songs on CD- not played on bagpipes, which she promptly put in for all to hear, a new knit scarf in rainbow colors which she planned to wear all day and a bag from prêt a manger with a breakfast sandwich and a pack of gum. “Hmmm…”, she thought as she pulled out the gum and dropped it in the drawer of her desk, “this must be the gift from my actual secret Santa.” The sandwich was at least still warm. 

~~~

A new shaving kit with a leather strap for blade sharpening and a new cut throat razor, James pulled the leather string and unrolled the gift. Tanner had handed him two packages at the end of their morning debrief. “These are for you 007. Your Secret Santa was called away today apparently and left these on Moneypenny’s desk with a note to deliver these to you.” James raised his eyebrows in surprise then narrowed them as he gave Tanner a cocky half smile, “thanks Bill,” he had said with a nod. A classic double blind spy game, Bond thought, but then as he opened the shaving kit he paused. Left on Moneypenny’s desk? Shaving kit with a cut throat razor, Eve had used one of these on him, was this actually from Eve? Was Eve his Secret Santa? He thought back over the gifts from the first few days. She knew where he lived. She could have left the whiskey. She had access to his calendar she would know where he was during the day as well. “Hmm…” he was second guessing himself now. Then he opened the second gift. A first aid kit with a book on how to stitch yourself up with minimal scarring. “Well shit,” he said outloud, this could have come from Eve, Bill or for that matter it could have come from Q. Q was the one always complaining that he’d probably have fewer scars if he’d actually go to medical to deal with his injuries. But James didn’t mind his scars actually. He liked the stories they told. Plus when he let Q stitch him up, he knew the scars also were like a signature from Q himself. The neat little stitches in perfect lines. Then his mobile pinged, he was late and all thoughts of who was leaving him gifts left his head. 

~~~

Q was also second guessing the identity of his Secret Santa. When he discovered the six little bags of earl gray and lavender short bread cookies, labeled “for Saturday morning” tucked inside a new soft gray cashmere beanie hat with new fingerless gloves, labeled, “for the walk home from the tube on Friday,” along with a cashmere scarf, and then in the bottom of the bag he discovered there were additional hats in a variety of colors with another note, “extras to keep all that wild hair in check,” he hesitated. James might have remembered the hat and gloves he wore when they were in Alsace, but lavender short bread? That didn’t seem like a secret agent 007 sort of choice. He was thinking back over the gifts so far, running mental algorithms trying to hone in on who it might be when he heard the alarms in the bull pen. 003 was in trouble. He dropped the short bread back on his desk and hurried out to see what had happened. 

~*~


	8. On the seventh and eighth days of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the seventh (and eighth) day(s) of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… eight teas for brewing, seven mugs for sipping, six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Kasia was starting to wonder if perhaps one week of E.L.F. Secret Santa might have actually been enough. The jet launched screeching gift delivery followed by remote control parachute activated landings that the minions on skeleton crew in R&D had developed over the weekend and were now implementing on a Monday morning were a bit over the top. And when Q walked through the bullpen only to have a parachute land in his hair making him come to a full stop, the only thing that saved Kasia from the glare of death that she knew her boss was capable of, was the steaming cup of tea he had in one hand and lavender shortbread that he was currently nibbling in the other. He set down his tea mug on minion 16’s desk, brushed the lavender crumbs from his shirt and gingerly reached up to retrieve the parachute that still sat in his nest of hair upon his head. He assumed it was for someone else, thus his surprise when he discovered it actually had his name on it. He looked around quickly, stymied at how his Secret Santa, which he was still mostly convinced was Bond would have pulled this off. Q had already discovered the new brown betty tea pot, and a set of new mugs. One a new Q10 scrabble mug to replace the one that had been broken several months ago in the chaos of a mission gone wrong with 008 when Q had, in a rare show of emotion, flung his arm in frustration and knocked it from the table. One of the others was a mug that had several symbols on it. Q knew he was going to accidentally on purpose lose it as soon as he could. It said Q- T and then had the irrational number that represented the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. “Q-T Pi,” he said out loud then shook his head, “ha ha… No.” 

He had assumed the teapot was day seven and the mugs were for day eight, but opening the envelope he discovered that THIS was actually day eight and he could now expect a fresh delivery of loose leaf tea every other month, six to be delivered with a note that the other two, were already in his satchel to go home, an earl gray from the Twining store on the Strand, and a lovely black current. He was going to enjoy these gifts all year long and glancing over at Kasia, the lavender cookie eaten, the parachute draped over one hand and his tea mug in the other he couldn’t help the little smile and nod he sent her way, recognition that part of his happiness was thanks to her. 

Kasia beamed for the next six hours, especially since her run of multiple gifts from multiple secret Santa’s had continued and today she was surrounded by chocolates and cookies, and a collection of holiday DVDs including her favorite Love Actually. Her real secret Santa had also done pretty well today actually if she ignored the box of butter rum life savers which was apparently day seven. The beautiful camel colored leather gloves she found on her chair with a Santa sticker labeled “8” were soft and supple, even if they were a size too large and she had no way of knowing that James had found them in his flat and realized they were left by a former girlfriend whom he hadn’t seen in years. “Regifting is okay,” he had mumbled, “they are vintage.” Then he felt a surge of guilt thinking about the vintage Aston he had taken from Q and how much regret he had for that whole misadventure. 

~~~

Bond flipped to the marked page when he discovered the book. There were two books, one for each of the assigned days. The first edition book on the history of the Royal British Navy was lovely, but it was the book of poetry by Tennyson, the one with the poem “Ulysses” that had caused Bond to pause, to sit and to read more carefully. The last lines had been bracketed, and marked with an M. The passage that she had recited during the inquisition, or whatever it was the prime minister was calling it, when they had been attacked, before he took M to Skyfall. Before she had died. 

“We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;  
One equal temper of heroic hearts  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

Bond had often recited these lines to himself as a reminder, strong in will, heroic hearts. “Thank you Bill,” James said quietly, seeing the little M written beside that last stanza. 

Then he got the ping on his mobile with a text that said “report to Q branch for intel and equipment. Brussels- one day expected trip.” Sender- Bill Tanner.

Bond quickly responded, “Will do.” And then couldn’t help himself, “and thanks for the books.” 

Tanner responded, “what books? I only sent you one intel file as an attachment. Really 007, it isn’t very long, don’t exaggerate.” 

James smiled before heading down to see Q, thinking he’d give Bill a proper thank you on day twelve when they could all finally end these games and acknowledge each other properly. 

~~~

James walked into Q branch to hear Scottish bagpipe Christmas carols playing over the speakers and couldn’t help but smile. He recognized the song. 

Q spotted James coming and looked up with a smile, “Ah, 007!” 

“Q,” James smiled in return. “Apparently I’m off to Brussels tomorrow.” James noticed the fingerless gloves Q was wearing. “Cold?” 

“Brussels? A bit cold tomorrow yes, and rainy, you’ll want an umbrella I suspect,” Q answered as he reached for James’ paperwork. 

“No, you,” James said, “Are you cold? What’s with the gloves in the office?” He pointed at Q’s hands. 

“Oh…these,” Q said, realizing what James meant and suddenly blushed, realizing James was calling attention to the gloves that he had given Q a few days ago. Then he felt his cheeks go even pinker when James reached out and stole a lavender shortbread from the plate beside his new teapot as Q stood up to retrieve Bond’s equipment. 

“You okay Q? Your cheeks are flushed? Are you wearing gloves because you’re chilled? You are not running a fever are you?” James actually looked concerned and reached forward to place the palm of his hand on Q’s forehead, brushing the waves of his fringe off Q’s skin with his fingers. Realizing what he had just done without thinking, his hand on Q’s skin, his fingers brushing the edge of Q’s incredibly soft waves of hair James tried to stay nonchalant, not wanting to scare Q off. 

Q just about felt his knees buckle at the press of James’ hand against his skin. “No,” he said quietly. “I just…”

“Hmm,” James said as he stepped back, “you don’t feel hot. Pretty sure MI6 can’t afford for her quartermaster to be feeling poorly, maybe you need more tea.” 

Q watched James snag another shortbread cookie and just nodded as he tried to pull himself together. “Right, no, I’m fine. I just…” he held up one hand and then waved it away inconsequentially, “I forgot I had them on, they were a gift.” 

James smiled, “really? From your secret Santa?” The sound of bagpipes picked up again as the song changed in the main room. “Your Santa has good taste.” 

“Mmm,” Q nodded, really trying to fight the blush surging through him. “Yes, he does.” 

“As does mine,” James said off handedly. 

“Really?” Q suddenly looked up expectantly, almost too eager. But James had turned and was fiddling with equipment Q had left on his side table. 

“Mmm,” James nodded, his back still to Q, “today I got a book of poems, by Tennyson, the last one that M recited at Whitehall is in there.” James turned to look at Q. “It was a nice memory.”

Q said quietly, “One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will…”

“Oh you know it too?” James said, a bit more surprised then Q would have expected, given Q thought James was hinting that he knew Q was his secret Santa. 

Q snapped his mouth shut, not actually quite sure what to say before he just nodded once and said quietly, “yes, I know it too.” 

James looked at him and the two men studied each other for a moment, neither quite sure what to say. Until James took the easy way out saying, “well, shall we get me sorted for Brussels? Are you giving me an umbrella?” 

Q shook his head to kick himself into motion, James was giving him very conflicting messages and he wasn’t at all sure what to think. “Do you need one?”

“You said it was going to rain in Brussels tomorrow.” James reminded him.

“Ah, yes…” Q opened his desk drawer and pulled out an umbrella and then reached for Bond’s metal gun box. “Here,” he handed both to James. “It’s a new Walther, cleaned and reprogrammed with your modified palm print, now that you have that new scar on your palm from that trip you took to Argentina. I think that was why you had it hesitate when you pulled the trigger on your last trip to Bosnia. I don’t think you’ll actually need it for this trip. Intel suggests this should be quick and you should be back tomorrow night with no body count… we all hope.” Q said with a smile. 

“Thanks Q,” Bond smiled in return. “And the umbrella? What does it do?”

“What?” Q frowned in confusion. 

“The umbrella you gave me,” James said, raising it to remind Q he had it in his hand.

Q opened his mouth, then closed it quickly before saying, “it’s just an umbrella. You said you needed one. That one is mine. The one I keep in my desk.” 

James paused, looking at the umbrella in his hand before looking back at Q. “Thanks. I’ll return it when I get back.” 

“I suspect you won’t actually. I’m used to you breaking and losing my things. Although I am a bit fond of that one, so…” 

James nodded, a bit bothered that Q was being dismissive about his equipment record, again, but immediately made it a goal to return Q’s personal umbrella. Somehow this felt different, knowing it was Q’s actual property and not just a requisition from Q branch. 

The bagpipes got louder as the song changed in the main room. Q flinched, “damn bagpipes,” he said.

James chuckled, “you don’t like bagpipes?”

Q shook his head, “Kasia’s secret Santa gave her that disc as a gift last week. If I ever find out who did it, I’ll taze them in their sleep. She’s been playing it nearly non stop.” 

James shrugged and turned towards the door, “really? I kind of like them.” 

Q just shook his head, “in person, in Edinburgh or on a great green field in the highlands perhaps, but not echoing in Q branch. Safe travels to Brussels 007.”

“Thanks Q,” James nodded, “I’ll see you Wednesday,” he lifted Q’s umbrella. “When I return this.” 

“Right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Q had gone terse, his usual defense mechanism with Bond when he thought his defenses around his heart were weakening.


	9. On the ninth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the ninth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…nine of absolutely nothing, eight teas for brewing, seven mugs for sipping, six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Kasia didn’t even notice that her secret Santa failed to leave her a gift, she was too enamored with her other gifts to even care, and Q wasn’t expecting one since he believed James was his secret Santa so when he didn’t get one, he just saw it as perfect confirmation. James was his secret Santa, and James was in Belgium, therefore couldn’t give Q a gift today, his logic was therefore confirmed. He had missed the little bag that had nine prêt-a manger gift cards tucked in the outside pocket of his satchel, which he wouldn’t discover until next week.

James however, flew home from Brussels wearing an ice blue silk tie that he had found in his luggage, Secret Santa sticker #9 on the label. Tanner was sneaky, and Bond wasn’t exactly sure how it had been added to his valice without him knowing it, but it was a gorgeous tie, and if he had paid attention when he looked in the mirror he would have realized it matched the color of his eyes perfectly.


	10. On the tenth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the tenth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…ten Lord of London tie tacks, nine of absolutely nothing, eight teas for brewing, seven mugs for sipping, six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Kasia started her day with a rather dinged up box of Belgian chocolates left on her office chair. Apparently 007 was back from his one-day mission and had been in early. “Subtle 007,” she smirked. Kasia had debated about pairing Q and 007 together purposely, thinking that might finally get them to acknowledge the obnoxious flirtation the two of them shared, but Kasia was glad she had followed her gut and left James in the random pool. She somehow knew he’d be an inconsistent secret Santa and she really didn’t want Q to face another year of crap gifts. No, Kasia had taken one for the team when she had ended up with Bond as her Santa. The chocolates, a bit broken and looking worse for wear still tasted good, but really, James could have tried a wee bit harder. Good thing her friends all kept leaving secondary secret Santa gifts on her desk. The bottle of gin was especially appreciated after the difficult day she had. 

~~~

Q started his day with his umbrella, in perfect condition left on his office chair. Apparently 007 was back from his one-day mission and had been in early. “Subtle 007,” he smiled. He looked for his secret Santa gift but there was nothing obvious in his office. “Hmm, maybe you actually are being subtle,” he murmured before heading out to check in with everyone. “Kasia, what are those?” he asked stopping in front of her desk as she was popping a broken Belgian chocolate shell into her mouth. 

“Whhaattt?” she asked, surprised to see Q, her mouth still full of chocolate. “These?” Q nodded at her and raised his eyebrows. “Belgian chocolates,” she said after swallowing. “Want one?” She raised the box full of broken chocolates up to her boss. 

“Belgian chocolates?” he said in surprise. 

“Yep,” she smiled. “Pretty good, even if they are a bit dinged up. From my secret Santa.” 

“Really?” Q looked a bit baffled. 

Kasia had just popped another one in her mouth when she realized what was happening, but couldn’t respond with a mouth full of chocolate a second time. 

“Have you by any chance seen 007 this morning? He seems to have been in my office,” Q continued, now a perturbed look settling between his eyebrows. 

“Nope,” Kasia said, honestly. 

Q pursed his mouth sideways in thought, “right,” he said with a stiff nod. “Bugger,” he mumbled. Then looking up he forced a brief smile onto his face, “well, back to work then. If you see him, let him know I’d like to speak to him.” 

Kasia’s eyes had gone wide, but she nodded in agreement. “Yes sir,” she mumbled. “Are you sure you don’t want a chocolate?” 

“I’m sure, but thank you,” Q grinned. He had just started to walk away when he turned and said more earnestly, “and Kasia…”

“Yes sir?” she said, yet another piece of chocolate held up to her lips. “Thank you for organizing all of this. It’s been a nice reprieve from the stress we all deal with everyday.” 

“Happy to do it boss.”

Q just nodded, his fingers flexing, his thumb rubbing over the outside of his closed fist as he smiled one more time and nodded, almost shyly before turning back to his office. 

Kasia let out a deep held breath and a frustrated sigh, “shit,” she said quietly. Q clearly thought 007 was HIS secret Santa. 

~~~

Q tried hard to not let his mind run away from him, shaking off the sadness that wanted to creep in realizing he might be wrong and that all the lovely gifts he’d been receiving had been from someone else. But who? Who would know him so well and send him such perfect gifts. When the mail run came through and Gerald handed him a long thin box with a gold bow Q just nodded to his desk and asked Gerald to put it down. Q was busy. Busy trying not to get his hopes up. Busy trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach that his gift had arrived and he would have his fears confirmed. Busy trying to focus on things that were actually important, like missions where lives were on the line and he needed to make sure people didn’t end up dead. But he could see the box out of the corner of his eye and five minutes later he turned from his computer. “Bloody hell,” he huffed and lifted the lid and then his heart melted. It was a green silk tie, and a velvet bag of tie tacks. Q grabbed his mobile and opened the camera feature, flipping it so he could see himself as he held up the tie. It was the same color as his eyes. Another direct response to the ice blue silk tie Q had given James yesterday. And in the constant competitive mode that made 007 both infuriating and yet amazing, he’d one upped Q and included tie tacks as well as a set of jade stone cufflinks that matched. Then Q realized he had seen those Belgian shell chocolates in the overstock on Shaftesbury. Just because they were Belgian didn’t mean they had actually come from Belgium… yesterday. It was just a coincidence. Q tugged off his woven burgundy tie and slid the green one on, tying it in a four handed knot. He had been practicing, having noticed it was Bond’s favorite style. 

Two more days he sighed and finally they could acknowledge what had been happening over the past two weeks. But then what? Q choked and quickly loosened the tie realizing he had tugged it to tight as he let his mind wander. “Nothing will happen,” Q said quietly to himself, “because James isn’t interested in me that way. I’ll just say thank you for the gifts and things will go back to normal.” Q felt a wave of sad frustration run through him, but he shoved it aside, he wouldn’t let that overwhelm him. Not yet. He’d enjoy this as long as he could, because this was the first time that James had been so thoughtful and Q didn’t want to let go of that yet. 

~~~

James however had a shit day. The Belgian trip had been inconsequential but he had almost missed his flight when he realized he had left Q’s umbrella back in the hotel and he had to high tail it back to get it. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t return it. Or worse, Q would be silent about it and then James would feel like shit. He absolutely hated letting Q down. The worst had been Q’s indifference when James had come back from his time away with Madeleine. James had missed Q horribly. One of the major reasons James had come back was because of Q and Q had been down right distant after his return. James had wanted to tell Q all along why he had come back, but Q had given him no opportunity. 

It had taken nearly two months to seemingly get back in Q’s good graces, the really flirtatious snark only recently returning. It was the banter that James loved the most, Q’s quick witted humor and the sly little smile Q would give him when James landed a particularly good tease. James thought back to the last two weeks and all the gifts he had received from Tanner, wondering if Q had been his Santa what Q would have picked. “Tech,” James thought, fantasizing about one of a kind tie tacks, secret cameras and of course exploding pens. James couldn’t help but also think about what gifts he might have chosen for Q if he had been his secret Santa. Maybe pieces of the Aston, one each day until the last day when he’d finally give him the keys back, because of course he still had the car. But when Q had been so damn flippant about it, not even looking at him as he demanded the keys back James had feigned ignorance, he didn’t want to return it if that was going to be Q’s reaction, and for now it stayed parked in his storage unit. Maybe someday he’d give it back. But not until he figured out what was going on in Q’s head. 

Today had been full of missteps. The broken box of chocolates he left for Kasia, Minion 11. They had made the trip back with him perfectly, but then he stumbled and dropped them on his way into MI6. “Fuck,” he had hissed then sighed, “nothing to do about it now.” He gave them to her broken. Then he missed Q, wanting to give him the umbrella personally, but had to make it to an appointment, his return to MI6 was only approved by Mallory if he agreed to regular therapy sessions. He fucking hated these, but he knew better then to push Mallory on it. He was always strung out after these appointments, always doing his best to avoid revealing anything, but damn it if the therapist wasn’t capable of digging in even when he thought he had blocked her out. He had planned to head back to MI6 after a very long lunch with several martinis to reset the raw feeling he still had when he left the therapist after way too much conversation about his emotional availability and the walls he had up about letting a certain green eyed boffin into his world. The martinis hadn’t worked, and a stop at his tailors to pick up a new suit, which had been cut wrong when he tried it on and now had to be redone made him abandon his plan to go back to MI6. 

He needed to burn off his bad mood. Sex was always a way to do that, but even with multiple names in his contact list he knew he could call, none intrigued him even a little bit. “Fuck,” he hissed again. It seemed to be the phrase of the day for him. He finally headed back to MI6 for a belated debrief with Tanner. “Hmm,” he thought, he didn’t have his secret Santa gift for today yet. Maybe, just maybe, given Tanner’s amazing record so far Bond would find something yet redeemable about today. 

Q had been periodically checking Bond’s tracking signal to figure out where he was today. He needed to get him his gift and damn if the man wasn’t out gallivanting around London all day. Finally, late afternoon Q saw Bond ping back at MI6. He grabbed the box with the bow and the secret Santa sticker #10 on it and headed upstairs. 

“Eve?” Q poked his head in the door to her office. 

“Q!” Eve said with delight. 

“Is Bond still in with M?” 

“Yep, but it’s probably a short meeting today, easy mission and all. Why? Do you need to see him?” 

“No,” Q shook his head then his smile widened when he spotted James’ long wool coat hanging on Eve’s coat tree. “I just need to leave him this.” Q walked over and slid the box into the inner coat lining of Bond’s coat. “Don’t tell him I was here.” 

“Of course not,” she smiled. “Nice tie,” she added with a raise of her eyebrows. 

Q beamed, “thanks. It was today’s gift. The green matches my eyes. Don’t you think?” Q leaned over Eve’s desk and opened his eyes wider at her, lifting his glasses so she could see. 

She laughed, “why yes, I’d say the green does match your eyes. You must have a very special secret Santa to have been so careful about that choice.” 

“Mmm,” Q hummed with a giggle, “indeed, I think I do.” 

Eve saw the light on her telecom light up. “You best go. I think they are done. Unless you want to bump into James here.”

“No, no, I’ll go.” Then he was up and gone, waving back at Eve with another smile. 

Eve leaned over her desk to add before the door closed, “drinks soon?”

“Yes,” Q leaned back and blew her a kiss, “we have the Q branch party Friday, we can start there and then go out for more after.” Then he really did disappear as the door to Mallory’s office swung open and voices grew louder. 

Bond came out first, headed for his over coat when Eve noticed his tie. “Nice tie, 007, I don’t think I’ve seen that one.” She leaned forward, “wait, come here.” She reached for it to look at it more closely, “I think this matches your eyes.” 

“I know,” James gave her a little wink, “it was from my secret Santa.” Then he tossed his head back towards Mallory’s office, hinting it was someone inside. 

“Wait… James? Do you think Mallory is your secret Santa?” Eve’s voice raised in tone. 

“No,” James scowled, “It’s Tanner. He’s made excellent choices.” As he lifted his coat he could feel the difference in weight and reached inside to find the long box. “Aha,” James lifted it out of the inside pocket. He knew this box. “He’s been an excellent secret Santa, really, excellent.” James smiled. “Goodnight Eve.” And then James was gone. 

Eve sat there, mouth slightly open. Then she snapped it closed and shook her head with a sigh. “You are both idiots,” she said quietly.

“Who’s an idiot?” Tanner asked coming out with Mallory at his elbow. 

Eve looked up at him, debating about explaining, but decided perhaps she should let this play itself out. There were still two days left. “No one, everyone,” she shook her head. “Never mind.” 

“Right,” Tanner said with a confused look. 

~~~

James waited to open the box until he got back to his flat. He’d ordered grocery delivery and it was waiting for him. Nothing went better with a fine 30 year old Talisker single malt Scotch whiskey from the highlands then salmon. A quick grill with rosemary and lemon and James poured himself a tumbler. This was by far the best part of his day as he sat back, his stomach full, his glass full yet again. He took a sip, and as he sighed and sat back he realized all he would have wished for was someone to share this with. Two more days and he could actually thank Tanner. James decided he’d invite him for dinner and he’d share this with him. Least he could do, even if it really wasn’t Tanner that James wanted to share this with.


	11. On the eleventh day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the eleventh day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…an eleven button jumper, ten Lord of London tie tacks, nine of absolutely nothing, eight teas for brewing, seven mugs for sipping, six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

As the final days of the secret Santa game were upon them it was becoming more and more difficult to find any moment when someone didn’t have eyes on them, as everyone was either sneaking around trying to drop off a gift unseen, or sneaking around trying to figure out who there secret Santa was. Q had no choice but to send a memo to all of his minions requiring them to return the spy cameras they had all “borrowed” as they were now out of them in the requisitions department and 002 had been held up for an hour before she could leave for her mission because they couldn’t find the right equipment for her as everyone had rigged their desks with remote sensors and cameras to catch their Santa. 

Q hadn’t bothered with secret cameras as he was positive he knew who his Santa was, plus he knew full well he could just look at the logs of all the CCTV cameras in MI6 if he really needed to see who was coming and going from his office. He glanced up at the camera in the corner of his office now as he spotted the large box that lay across the top of his desk. 

“Bloody hell,” Q quipped as he opened it, a gorgeous cashmere blended jumper in the warmest blue he’d ever seen, with green cuffs and trim that he realized matched his new tie and cufflinks. “Well done James.” So very tempted to put it on right now he pulled it out of the box and held it up, rubbing the soft cashmere across his cheek. But then he put it back in the box, already deciding he’d wait so he could wear the whole ensemble tomorrow for the branch holiday party and thank James in person. 

~~~

At the end of the day Q was heading for the lab needing to finish a few final tests on his last gift for James when he noticed the gathering around Kasia’s desk. “What’s going on here?” he asked walking up to everyone with a grin. 

“Open bar,” Minion 6 said with a cheeky smile. And indeed it was, Q looked over Kasia’s shoulder and spotted a line of mini alcohol bottles all labeled Brussels airline. Kasia had received a dozen little bottles from her secret Santa and the minions were taking turns taste testing most of them before each grabbed one and started chanting “shots, shots, shots.” Minion 3 handed an unopened bottle to Q. “Want one boss?” 

Q had a confused look on his face, his brows furrowed as he looked down, the fringe of his hair falling over the front of his glasses. “What?” he looked at minion 3, then quickly waved away the bottle, “no, no.” He looked up and forced a smile, poker face in play, “thank you though. No I’m off to the lab, best not to let alcohol affect my safety protocols.” 

Kasia watched him walk away debating about what she should do. She so badly wanted her boss to have a happy Christmas and his real secret Santa had given him truly amazing gifts, but now she worried that his heart was going to get broken again regardless of the effort and she hated that. All she could do was wait it out she thought, and then she would rally the minions to support their boss. She’d figure out what that actually meant when this was all said and done, her mind was a little foggy at the moment, a few too many little bottles of alcohol already in her system.

“Belgian chocolates, Brussels airline alcohol,” Q mumbled. “It couldn’t be James. It has to be a coincidence.” For the first time since this game started Q was tempted to check the CCTV recordings of his office. But he wasn’t sure that would be convincing, unless James himself left the package. Most everyone now had a team of alliances that they were using as decoys. James could have had anyone dropping off gifts. Q had used both Eve and Tanner to help get gifts to James which was why all the minions rigging their desks with cameras to catch their Santa was ridiculous. Although he had to admit it was resulting in some interesting logic puzzles as he listened to them try to unravel the identities. Maybe some practice in deductive reasoning wasn’t such a bad thing. Q pulled up his laptop and did a quick search of the MI6 travel logs for anyone who had traveled to Brussels in the past two weeks. There were three people; Kersti from accounting, turns out she has a sister who lives there and she went for the weekend, Bryan from medical, he had traveled for a medical conference last week and of course James. A quick cross check with who had signed up for the secret Santa game and he could rule out Bryan. It was likely Kersti or James. He huffed a sigh and shook his head, what were the chances a woman would give another woman a box of broken chocolates and twelve bottles of alcohol from an airlines? He frowned realizing it wasn’t likely yet it was totally in line with what he expected from Bond. Shit. But then he remembered that James had flown coach from Brussels. He knew it because James had texted him with a picture of his airline ticket with a big arrow pointed to the seat assignment and a “WTF!? Q??” labeled at the end. But it wasn’t Q’s fault that there hadn’t been any first class seats available. Q had replied “suck it up 007. It’s a short flight.” He did another cross check. Kersti had flown first class. Then a quick, inappropriate and guilt ridden hack of Kersti’s medical records, she had a history of alcoholism. It was Kersti. It had to be Kersti. Q shut the files with a relieved sigh. Later he’d realize he had let his own emotions influence his interpretation of that data and he’d regret it. He’d also regret that he didn’t check the actual flight information on James, who had of course sweet talked himself into first class and brought all those bottles home in his pockets thanks to the red headed steward he had flirted with all the way from Brussels. 

~~~

“Cufflinks with a garroting wire,” James beamed in delight as he read the note that was in the box with the generic looking onyx cufflinks. “Seriously?” Bond had finished swimming laps in the pool and in a flashback to the first day of this game he discovered the box in his locker when he came back from the shower. He didn’t even bother to look around this time, assuming Tanner had already come and gone, or had someone else do it. James had given ten quid to minion 15 to leave the alcohol on Kasia’s desk at lunchtime today. He felt badly that he had been such a shit secret Santa after all the amazing gifts he had received and while he couldn’t fix today he decided he’d get at least one really nice gift to leave her tomorrow. A quick trip to Harrods on the way home and he’d be set. 

Quickly pulling on his shirt, his back not quite dry he felt it stick to his skin and he didn’t even bother to button it. He grabbed the cufflinks and pulling the sleeves of his shirt down then put in first one and then the other. He grabbed the paper to read the directions. On one cufflink there was a small knob and on the other was a small groove. He inserted the knob into the groove and then flexed his arms pulling the cufflinks a part drawing out the wire. He barked a laugh in delight. Then he heard the clatter of something behind him and turned around to see the same person who had dropped his shoes last week had completely lost control of all the contents of his gym bag. James smiled, thinking it was in response to the cufflink surprise, but then he realized he had completely forgotten to put on his pants. He looked at the man a second time who was blushing beat read and trying to gather his belongings, this time winking at him as he flexed his glutes, then turned back to figure out how to get the wire to go back inside the cufflinks without cutting off his own wrist. 

“Thanks Bill,” James said outloud, then hesitated. This seemed like the kind of gift that would have come from Q branch, not Tanner. But then he smirked, everyone was developing alliances James reminded himself, and he knew Q and Bill were friends. He wouldn’t put it past Tanner to ask Q for some help with a gift. He just wished Tanner had asked for an exploding pen. Later he’d realize he had let his own biases influence his interpretation of that data and he’d regret it.


	12. On the twelfth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the twelfth day of… MI6’mas, my Santa gave to me… twelve absolutely amazing, beyond believable faded yellow pages, an eleven button jumper, ten Lord of London tie tacks, nine of absolutely nothing, eight teas for brewing, seven mugs for sipping, six shortbread cookies, FIVE cashmere hats, four pairs of socks, three vinyl records, two bags of cat toys and a perfect cup of freshly brewed tea.

Q branch was buzzing all day Friday in anticipation of the holiday party happening that evening. “Evening!” Q said that one word loudly from across the bullpen as drones with gifts whizzed past his ears, parachutes were dropping randomly and remote control sports cars were being chased by remote control tanks around his feet. “The holiday party does not start until this evening!!” Q branch went quiet, drones dropping from the air instantly, the last parachute slowly descending in front of Q’s shoulder. Q reached up to grab it in a huff, rolling his eyes. “Do I need to remind all of you that we still have two agents out on missions? And unless you all want to come in tomorrow, end of week reports are due by the end of the day.” 

He watched as several minions turned around, slumped shouldered, “yes sir,” “yes, boss,” being echoed around the room. 

Q couldn’t help but smile feeling empathy for the enthusiasm he had just shuttered. He was as excited as anyone. Running his hands down the front of his gorgeous azure blue cardigan, green silk tie in place, new green socks hiding under the cuffs of his pants Q was counting the hours to the end of the day. He looked up, chin set, calm voice echoing through the drab silence, “and if we get 009 home safely by mid afternoon we can start the party early.” He chuckled, a half smile sneaking onto his face as he heard the cheers, and then the remote control tanks started up again to finish lumbering across the floor. 

Kasia however was sitting dumb founded at her desk. She had just opened her bottom file drawer and discovered her last gift from her real secret Santa. A gorgeous camel colored Burberry checked tote bag with a gold bow and a note, “I hope this makes up for my shockingly crap gifts over the last two weeks. Happy Christmas, secret agent Santa.” 

“Kasia? You okay?” Q had a pile of electronics in his arms as he headed for the lab and saw the look on her face. 

“I’m wonderful,” she smiled, lifting the bag from her desk. “I found my last gift.” 

Q beamed at her. “That’s lovely. Well done secret Santa.” He turned to go thinking definitely Kersti, James would never pick out a handbag as a gift and then turned back. “And Kasia, thank you for pulling all of this together this year. I know everyone appreciates it.” Then he heard “incoming” shouted across the room as a rocket gift bag came flying over, slightly out of control due to uncalculated weight impact of the attached gift. Everyone ducked. When he stood back up he shot a glare at the minion who had nearly set his hair on fire, then he turned back to Kasia. “Although perhaps next year we need to set some additional ground rules about package delivery.” 

“Yes sir,” Kasia laughed. 

~~~

Q found his last gift in the lab on his bench. It was a first edition of Turing’s Cathedral: The Origins of the Digital Universe with an Alan Turing finger puppet from the unemployed philosophers guild, both of which made him enthusiastically happy. But below those, in the bottom of the box, carefully wrapped behind plastic was an autographed copy of Turing’s paper “On Computable Numbers, with an application to the Entscheidungsproblem.” He looked at it twice, lifting it carefully as he traced the scrawl of Turing’s autograph with his finger through the plastic protective cover. Q’s eyes went blurry, unable to focus. He blinked hard and realized it was tears. He thought this might be the very best gift he had ever received as he set the fragile document down carefully on his lab tabletop. Looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching, he quickly shut the door to the lab, sitting back down on his stool, staring down at the paper. Alan Turing, the scientist who had invented the computer, a gay man who was essentially tortured by the government because of his sexuality, his life ending too quickly. Q owed so much to this man in so many ways. This gift left him breathless. 

Q had planned to leave James’ last gift on his desk, with a large warning note to not actually use the pen as a pen. James would certainly figure out who had left it. The exploding pen was their longest and most flirtatious banter, starting the first time they met in the national gallery. But after finding the Turing paper, Q decided to give it to James in person with a heartfelt thank you for all the gifts James had picked out for him. Q knew his crush on James would never be requited, Q knew James was only interested in women, but for James to recognize the importance of Turing to Q meant James accepted Q for who he was and Q felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. 

~~~

The day came to an end, 009 came through his mission unscathed and Q gave Kasia the green light to start the party, with the understanding that she was not to play the bagpipe Christmas CD even once. She nodded, “I understand boss, no bagpipes.” 

Q watched the festivities from the perimeter of the bullpen. Minion 14 had brought him a heavily rum spiked mug of egg nog which Q sipped cautiously. He was waiting for Bond to arrive, his final present for James safely tucked in the top inner pocket of his shirt. He knew from James’ tracker that he was still in the building, but as usual, James was taking his own sweet time in making an appearance. If he didn’t arrive soon Q might actually be forced to request he come down, but he really didn’t want to do that, at least not yet. 

Pizza boxes nearly empty, the crowd raucous and half drunk James finally appeared. Eve was at his elbow and scanning the crowd for Q wanting to make sure Q knew they were there. Tanner had arrived just a few minutes before and was headed for the egg nog when he grabbed Eve by the elbow to drag her with him. James had intended to thank Bill for the gifts and then to make his escape after revealing himself to Kasia. He wanted to make sure she had received her last gift, really the only one where he had made effort and he hoped she had liked it. He thought when Bill had headed for Eve, that he was actually the focus, his twelfth day gift still undiscovered, but apparently Bill was going to play this out to the very end and James huffed a sigh as he scanned the room. 

He had mixed feelings about possibly seeing Q tonight, after the most recent session with his therapist he was feeling conflicted and with nearly everyone in the room drunk this wasn’t the environment he wanted for the conversation he was starting to believe he needed to have with his quartermaster. But Eve wouldn’t let him skip it, thus the reason for their arrival together as she had marched him down the stairs.

But thirty seconds later still scanning the crowd for Kasia, Bond spotted Q who lit up with a smile when he saw James. James forced a smile in return quickly noting that Q actually looking quite dapper in what looked like a new cardigan. Bond would have killed to actually see Q in a bespoke suit, pretty sure the younger man would cut a nice line in a black dinner jacket, but the blue of this particular cardigan suited him and when Q smiled back with a nod, he decided a quick hello would be in order or he’d look like an arse. He hadn’t seen Q since he returned from Belgium, and he at least wanted to make sure Q was going to give him bonus points for returning the umbrella in working condition. 

“Good evening 007,” Q said smoothly, belying the nerves that were making his stomach flutter. 

“Q,” James smiled. 

“I’m glad you finally arrived. Do you have a minute? I thought we might talk someplace a bit more private,” Q said. 

James paused, a surge of panic hitting him. Being alone with Q tonight was not what he wanted. But he couldn’t say no, so he nodded, “of course, something on your mind?”

Q had already turned and was headed for his lab just down the hall from the main party, his office too central to all the activity. 

James was a bit slow to follow, trying to make a plan as he put up defensive walls. He spoke first before they got through the door, “Q, I’m curious did you find what I left you on your office chair?”

Q’s brow furrowed just a bit, he was pretty sure none of his secret Santa gifts had actually been left on his chair. “My chair?” he asked as he opened the door to the lab.

“Mmm, yes, the umbrella. Your personal one, the one you loaned me. I brought it back in one piece when I got back from Belgium. I’m hoping you found it. I nearly missed my plane making sure I had it with me.” 

“Ahhh, yes,” Q smiled, “thank you for that. Much appreciated. I thought you were talking about the gifts.” Q had turned to face James, trying really hard to keep his nerves in check.

“Gifts?”

Q gave him a half smile, “yes, the secret Santa gifts. I’m most appreciative…”

But James cut him off with a shake of his head, “What? No, no, I’m Kasia’s secret Santa.”

“What?” Q said, suddenly a bit befuddled. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I was a very good one, at least not until today.” James added quickly. “I was actually looking for her when I spotted you.” 

Q just stood there. 

And then James realized what Q thought, “Did you think I was YOUR Secret Santa?” James asked.

Q was actually dumbstruck. “I did. All of the things I’m wearing…” he slowly pointed to his cardigan, his cufflinks and tie and started to slowly pull up his trouser cuff to point to his socks when he just stopped. “I thought, I guess I hoped…” then he stopped talking and lowered his chin, his stomach completely dropped.

James laughed, “if I had been your Secret Santa you really think I’d give you, yet another, cardigan? Shit, I’d probably have given you spot cream, a broken gun, crap tea bags and a gift card to buy yourself a proper fitting suit coat.” His statement tumbling out before he could stop himself. 

“Right,” Q said quietly. “Sorry.” He lifted his head and shook it fiercely, the waves of his hair falling over his glasses, “sorry.” He started to turn. “My mistake.” Then he remembered the pen and pulled the box out of his pocket, quickly turning to set it on the table next to Bond before turning to walk away. He felt like he had been punched. His mind was quickly trying to process, to figure out where he had made the mistake. “Eve,” he hummed. Then he sped up, determined to salvage what little ego he still had left and get out of Bond’s line of vision. He was beyond mortified. 

“Q!” James called after him, realizing as Q had apologized and started to walk away that he had been unnecessarily flippant. He hadn’t meant to hurt Q’s feelings, he was just teasing. This wasn’t the way James had wanted to cross paths with Q. But Q was gone and James stood there, Q’s mug of egg nog in his hand and an uncomfortable feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 

~~~

Eve was searching the crowd for Q and James when she saw Q disappear into his office, a flurry of wild hair and flailing arms as Q was talking to himself. Eve darted after him and caught him stuffing his laptop and then his assortment of gifts from Eve into his satchel. “Where is my bloody oyster card,” he was mumbling as he felt inside his coat pockets, which he had pulled on in a hurry. 

“Q!” Eve closed the door behind her as she stepped inside. 

He stopped dead still and then slowly looked up at her. The emotions clear on his face, his eyes glassy. He sniffed hard, one side of his mouth coming up as he tried to stop the drippy nose he felt starting. “Eve,” he said quietly, a watery smile on his face. He stepped forward to give her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for all the lovely gifts. I just figured out it was you. You are beyond amazing. Happy Christmas.” And then he was gone before Eve could say anything more. 

Eve set her mouth into a hard line as her fists clenched and then shoulders raised she stormed out of Q’s office back down the hall where she suspected she’d find one major arse named Bond. “What did you say to him?” She stomped her foot hard as she faced off with him in the doorway, James just about to step out into the hall. 

“Hello Eve.” James said calmly, still reeling from the realization that he had been so cruel to Q. 

“James. What did you say to Q?” She said more calmly but just as fiercely. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backwards into the lab. 

“I didn’t know he thought I was his secret Santa. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings Eve. I was just about to find Kasia and then Tanner to thank him for all of my gifts when…” 

“Tanner?” Eve looked at him wide eyed. “You really never figured it out? Oh you complete arse! Tanner wasn’t your secret Santa. Q was.” 

James paused and realized the long thin box Q had pulled out of his pocket was still sitting on the table. “No, no, no…” He opened the lid. There sat the pen with a little bomb emblem on the cap, and a caution note. “Be careful with this, this one really does explode. Happy Christmas. Q” 

Eve shook her head. “You bloody arse.” 

“Fuck.” James said quietly. 

“You have no idea how he… you’ve had no idea how long…” Eve started in on him. “You really don’t deserve him.” Eve said as she turned to go. 

“No… I really really don’t.” James said, mentally ticking through all that Q had done for him, and the exquisitely chosen, perfect gifts he’d given him. And then there was the Aston. James blinked hard and then raised his eyes to Eve in surprise. “How long?”

“I think you can figure that out,” Eve said and sighed loudly, “although it’s a little late now. I think you better give him some time.”


	13. Christmas Eve

Q had holed up in his flat, wearing a too big ugly Christmas jumper over his woolen blue long johns, the oversized wool socks from Eve falling around his ankles as he nested on his couch, quilts and blankets around him, his hair unbrushed, wild and snarled. The cats were enjoying the quiet as they slept curled around him on cushions, the soft colored light of the loosely hung holiday strings making the room glow along the ceiling as Q sipped tea, the steam fogging his glasses. 

He had been watching crap holiday movies for nearly two days, grateful there had been no emergencies at MI6 as he tried to heal his broken heart. But when he found himself suggesting that perhaps George Bailey was actually better off not coming back, and that Clarence was a crap guardian angel, because really, everyone dies eventually he flipped off “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and when he realized he was relating more to Scrooge then Tiny Tim he flipped off the TV completely. He climbed off the couch and with a grumbled, “humbug” he came back with a tray of Christmas sweets that Eve had sent over to him when he had refused her invitation for Christmas dinner and promptly shoved two mince pies in his mouth one after the other. Ada sat up to investigate and Q let her lick his finger tips as he mumbled through the sticky sweetness, “I know I’m being ridiculous Ada, I just need a few days and then I’ll push myself to get over him.” 

“Or maybe you could tell him how you feel and then you wouldn’t have to get over him,” Q heard the voice in the hallway and his mind quickly decided it had been in his head. 

“Yeah right, like James Bond, 007 would ever reciprocate those feelings. I’ve been a bloody idiot.” 

“No, I’m the idiot. I should have realized…” 

Q jumped when he felt the presence behind him, the cats scattering, cookies going everywhere. “Bloody hell!!” Q screamed. “How did you… JAMES!... FUCK!.... Wait…” Q slowed down and looked at James in utter surprise, “did you really break into my flat again?” 

James was leaning on the edge of the couch, a smirk on his face as he chuckled at Q’s response and the chaos that just happened. “I did… yes.” 

“WHY???” Q was continuing to back up, nearly to the kitchen island. “Are you bleeding and need stitches again? I gave you a first aid kit and a book to do it yourself.” 

“Because Eve told me you weren’t answering your door.” James answered honestly. 

Q just stood there, his mouth hanging open as he let it sink in that Bond was standing beside his couch. Then he snapped his mouth shut and swallowed hard, looking down at the sight he realized he was presenting, in his ugly Christmas jumper, long johns and floppy socks, to the man standing there in a bespoke gray wool suit. He took a breath and let it out slowly. James clearly giving him time to process this and respond. Acknowledging that James had him at a disadvantage, given Q’s current attire all Q could do was lift his head and say with as much confidence as he could muster, “because Eve told you I wasn’t answering my door is the functional answer,” then added quickly, “which by the way, why are you texting Eve about me?” Then he shook his head, “never mind. Regardless, what I want to know is the real reason for why you broke into my flat.”

“To do this,” James said quietly, standing tall and striding towards the disheveled man who now held his hands up in protest. James reached for Q’s wrists, wrapping his fingers around them to draw them down and behind Q’s lower back before leaning in to press a kiss to Q’s trembling mouth at the same time that he slipped the keys for the Aston into Q’s palm, sliding the key ring over Q’s index finger. 

For a brief moment Q melted into the feeling, hands trapped, body curved against his, lips sliding together, a surge of absolute lust screaming through him, he rather embarrassingly moaned in response. But then he came to his senses and pulled back, tugging his hands free. “No, no, no.” Q stepped back, his hands now up and pushing against James’ chest, not yet realizing what James had given him. “No! You don’t get to just walk in here and do that. And goddamn it, how is it that you’re an even fucking better kisser then I imagined.” Q was fanning his face with his hand at the heated blush that was taking over, “but no.” 

“Why not?” James knew better then to push at the moment. He really did believe in consent and he knew how to read when he could step forward and when he couldn’t. 

Q paused trying to find a good reason when everything inside was screaming, “yes, idiot, why not? Kiss him again!” Instead he stood there blinking like an owl, before bringing his hands to his head, running his fingers through his snarled hair once again reminding himself that James hadn’t exactly caught him looking his best, when he realized James had put something in his hand. “What is this?” he held it up to inspect and saw the Aston insignia. 

“The keys to the Aston.” James tried again, reaching for Q, only to have Q twist away, moving to put the coffee table between them as he headed back in the direction of the couch. 

“Yes, I can see that.” Q said quickly. “But what is THIS?” 

“What is what?” James said. “I’m returning the car to you.”

Q faced off with James across the living room, James staring back at him with a frustrated look on his face. “You told me you didn’t have it. When I asked you for them when you came back. You told me you didn’t have it. And yet you did. And now you give the keys to me. Again, I ask what is this?” 

“This is me returning the car. Trying to thank you for the gifts, trying to apologize for being an arse.” 

Q stood quietly letting silence hang between them, James trying to wait him out. He finally said, “and that kiss?” 

“The first of many more I hope,” James gave him a flirtatious smile.

“No,” Q said quickly, his heart pounding.

“Why not?” James took a step closer. 

“Why not?” Q mimicked, his voice agitated. “Ohhhhhh… for so many bloody reasons! Let’s start with, one, you’re not gay. Two, two days ago you were teasing me about spot cream. Three, you’re not gay. Did I already say that one? Four, YOU ARE NOT FUCKING GAY!” 

“Right, you seem stuck on that one,” James said. 

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT GAY!” Q yelled at him. 

“Can you let me respond?” James asked. 

Q sat down on the couch in a funk, tossing the Aston keys on the table. 

James came around the couch and cautiously sat down beside him at the other end, then quickly stood back up to pluck the sticky caramel off his pants, which had been on the cushion, flung in the chaos a few minutes ago. He set it gingerly on the coffee table, then licked his fingers as he eyed the cushion again before sitting down a second time. Q was waiting impatiently, staring daggers. “I didn’t know you had feelings for me,” James started which made Q growl in response. “Don’t interrupt me,” James said quickly. “I’m sorry. I should have known. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Ada was sniffing James’ knee and he was trying not to get distracted.

“You’re kidding right?” Q snorted. “Fucking hell 007, you aren’t the first heterosexual man to be the focus of a homosexual crush. What would be the point in telling you?” 

“To find out if you are right or wrong about my sexual proclivities,” James said with a wink. 

Q went back to blinking like an owl. “What do you mean?” he finally said. “That’s a shit thing to say Bond. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN?” 

James didn’t answer. He waited for Q to sort it out. 

“You can’t really be saying… because I have zero bloody evidence in any records anywhere… that you… sleep with men…” Q’s heart was absolutely hammering at this point. 

“Let me take you to the bedroom and I’ll show you.” James offered with a purr that would rival Ada’s on a good day, sliding closer to Q on the couch, he was counting on his seduction to work, because it always worked.

Q pushed his legs straight out, his oversized floppy socks pressing against James’ knee to stop him, an instant reaction to James physical presence. James reached out to trace a finger up Q’s ankle, searching for skin between his sock and the bottom of his long johns. But Q tugged his feet back quickly and threw a blanket at James. “NO! Stop it! Just stop!!” 

James nodded with a huff and leaned back to the corner of the couch furthest from Q. “Sorry.” He held his hands up in admonition, realizing his normal techniques were apparently not going to work with Q. 

“I’m not a bloody mark. You don’t get to just do that to me.” Q protested. 

“I know your not. I know that, I do. I’m just trying to show you…” 

But Q interrupted he was shifting from feeling shocked, then defensive now to aggressive. “Show me WHAT? You feel badly for hurting my feelings about the secret Santa thing? You feel badly that you didn’t know my banter with you was more than banter? You feel badly that you kept the Aston and let me think you’d trashed that one too? And what… you think a fuck will make it up to me? I’m not interested in that.” 

James furrowed his brow and leaned in, “so let me get this straight, you don’t actually want to sleep with me?” James leaned back in exasperation, his hands coming over his face to scrub at the stubble on his cheeks, “fucking hell, Eve told me…” 

“Of course I want to sleep with you!” Q interrupted. “I’m GAY and you are a fucking wet dream. That’s not the point…” he was getting angry. Then he processed the last part of what James said. “And what do you mean Eve told you… what did Eve fucking tell you?” 

“NOTHING!” James yelled. “Christ, she told me nothing!” his voice started to quiet. “Nothing I shouldn’t have already known if I had been paying attention. And if I hadn’t been taking you for fucking granted all the time.” James added. 

Q was quiet. 

James sighed and shook his head, looking directly at Q. “I apologize. Okay. I’m sorry. I should have known. But the banter, I assumed you bantered with everyone like that.”

“Because you flirt with everyone like that…” Q clarified. 

“YES!” James nodded. “No, no wait. Actually… no.” He leaned closer to Q, “I don’t. See that’s what I mean, if I had been paying attention, I’d have realized sooner….”

“Bond, what IS the point here?” Q was feeling his frustration grow, none of this was right. 

“The point is that I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, and I didn’t know how to acknowledge them. Christ, my therapist has been telling me for two months that I needed to be honest with you. I wanted to tell you when I first got back that I came back because of you. But I couldn’t. And it wasn’t until you walked out of the party, after I said those horrible things, after I realized the gifts… that the gifts were from YOU, and when I thought about them, and how fucking perfect they were, and how much thought you had put into them…”

Q was blushing, “I didn’t. It wasn’t hard. I just know you well. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is. It’s a really big deal. And that’s the point Q, you know me better then nearly anyone else. You know ME.” James said, now reaching to put his hand on Q’s knee. “And I want to know YOU just as well.” 

Q froze at the feel of James’ fingers flexing on his knee. He swallowed hard before looking at James. “Do you really sleep with men?” He asked quietly. James nodded and smiled but Q continued. “Because you don’t have to sleep with me, just because I gave you an exploding pen. I don’t want you to think…”

“I want to,” James surged closer, “God, I really want to,” invading Q’s space, forcing Q to lean back into the corner of the couch. “Let me take you to bed,” James brushed his lips over Q’s ear, his nose nuzzling his neck before sliding his mouth over Q’s again, a heated kiss pressed to Q’s lips. 

Q was still so very confused, he hadn’t even processed everything James had said, but he gave in, wrapping his arms around James’ back as James leaned in closer, chest to chest, pressing Q deeper into the couch. Q had fantasized about this, this feeling, what it would be like to have James’ thick muscled arms wrap around him, to feel the weight of his heavy chest pressed to his, the taste of his mouth, the heat of his tongue. Q opened his mouth to let James invade, because that is what James Bond, 007, the Queen’s agent always did. Invade. And goddamn it he was so good at this. Q twirled his tongue around James’ inviting him in, their teeth clacked as James surged even closer. 

James reached down and shoved the quilts on Q’s lap onto the floor, making space, sliding his thigh into the opening between Q’s legs, pressing in, his hand sliding down Q’s side, to grab at his hip before his fingers shifted and Q suddenly clenched and pushed back. James pulled back quickly. “What? What’s wrong?”

Q heaved a breath, “stop.” 

James sat back on one leg, his elbow on the back of the couch he pressed his face into the palm of his hand in frustration. “But you said… I thought… you wanted to…”

“I do,” Q nodded, leaning in, his hand running up James’ arm, fingers curling around the back of his neck, but James didn’t give, he was stiff at Q’s rebuff. “I do, but I…” 

“What?” James looked at him. 

Q sighed and sank back into the corner of the couch again. “Bloody hell, do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About being with you? About what it would feel like to…” he blushed a deeper shade of red, “Can we just not rush this?” 

“You know me Q, I tend to be impatient.” 

Q laughed, “indeed. You do. I am very well aware of that.” He reached for James’ hand and slid his fingers into James’ grip. “But please…” 

James nodded in affirmation then sighed and lifted their joined hands to his mouth, placing a kiss to the back of Q’s fingers. “Fine.” He said against Q’s skin, looking over the top of their hands, his blue eyes holding Q’s green eyes until Q looked away. 

“I can’t even believe this is happening, this can’t even be bloody real.” Q squirmed into the corner of the couch. “Actually maybe we should rush this, so you don’t change your mind and I at least get to have you once.” Q laughed, then looked at James with worry, “unless you already have, changed your mind that is, and I’ve already fucking ruined this.” 

James smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss to Q’s lips, “I haven’t changed my mind,” James whispered against Q’s mouth before leaning back and settling in beside Q on the couch, never letting go of his hand. 

Q smiled, the blush on his face was making his cheeks go pink. But then he shook his head, he just couldn’t get this to make sense. “No. This isn’t real…” 

“What do you need me to say to convince you this is real, that I’m here because I want you.” 

“Why?” Q said quickly.

“Why?” 

“Yes why? Why do you want me? After all the women, and apparently men I didn’t know about, why me? I can’t possibly be your type Bond.”

“Why would you say that?” James laughed. 

“Because,” Q actually climbed from the couch to formally present himself. “Look at me.” He waved his hands up and down, then actually looked at himself and climbed back into the corner of the couch, “actually don’t. I look worse then usual. I forgot what I had on. This is bloody embarrassing.” Q had pulled his knees up in front of himself, and rested his forehead on his kneecap as he shook his head in dismay. 

“Q…You are the smartest, wittiest, most gorgeous person I know.” James said sincerely. 

“Shut up.” Q barked back at him. “That’s a bloody lie.” 

“It’s not,” James shook his head. “I will admit your current hairstyle could perhaps use a comb.”

“Bugger,” Q sighed, reaching up to try to plaster his hair closer to his head. The current loft factor was nearly dizzying he realized as he spotted himself in the reflection of the window. 

“You are sexy as hell Q.”

“I am the antithesis of sexy.” Q protested. “I’m not an idiot Bond.” 

“You underestimate yourself,” James smiled and shifted closer, reaching for Q’s ankles to tug his legs across his lap. “Those gorgeous green eyes, that square corner on the back of your jaw, that pouty bottom lip.” He brought his thumb to Q’s mouth and traced that pouty bottom lip softly, which was looking even more pouty then usual. 

Q turned away in embarrassment. “You’re ridiculous. And you’re teasing me.” 

“I’m not teasing,” 

“I’m not sexy. Eve is sexy. She’s got those long legs and beautiful figure, you are sexy, all muscled and fit, that bloody swagger in your walk.”

“I don’t swagger,” James protested. 

“Yes you absolutely do.” Q raised his eyebrows at him in condescension. 

“Alright, I swagger,” James admitted. 

“And those ice blue eyes of yours. The way they light up when you laugh.” Q stopped talking, he hadn’t intended to say that last part out loud. Which actually did make James laugh.

“There are different definitions of sexy Q. I find you utterly fascinating. Your cardigans and your lace up shoes. Your tea drinking habits and your love of cats.” He added as Alan jumped up onto the couch and tried to climb into his lap, making him sit back in surprise. 

“Just stop talking. You are not at all convincing me.” Q shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

James sighed, his hands buried in Alan’s tummy fluff as clearly Q’s cat was willing to put himself out for some physical attention, even if Q currently wasn’t, until he added, “if you’d let me take you to bed I’m pretty sure I could convince you.” 

“No,” Q said quietly.

James looked at him trying to read his face, “no, not right now? No, not tonight? Or no, not ever?” 

“I don’t know about not ever. But I don’t ever sleep with someone on a first date… get together…meeting… whatever the fuck this is. I don’t even know what this is.” Q was flustered. 

“It’s not our first ‘whatever this is’ Q, we’ve known each other for years now.” 

“Not like this, at least not for you anyway. I may have been thinking about this for a long time, but clearly you haven’t, since it never even occurred to you during these past two weeks that I was the one giving you gifts. You really thought it was TANNER?” He didn’t pause to let James answer. “And here I was dumb enough to think my gifts were from you. I owe Eve a very very big apology. Bugger.” Q sighed. “Do you even know what she gave me?” 

James pursed his lips and had to admit that he didn’t. 

“She got me an original scientific paper signed by Alan Turing.” 

James looked at him a bit blankly.

Q rolled his eyes, “it means nothing to you does it. You have no idea.” 

“Your cat is named Alan,” James said as he continued to scratch the affectionate feline in his lap. “Named after Turing.” 

“And… who is Alan Turing.”

“Didn’t Benedict Cumberbatch make a movie about him?” James started and from the look on Q’s face he realized that wasn’t the right thing to say. 

“Yes.” Q huffed. Then he climbed off the couch. 

“Where are you going?” James turned ready to get up, but Alan dug his claws into his suit trousers and he couldn’t move without slowing prying claws from the fabric. 

“To make tea.” Q huffed and walked away. 

James sighed, this wasn’t how he thought this evening was going to go. He slowly undid the cat claws and then set Alan on the cushion beside him, to go follow Q. He stood in the doorway watching Q in the kitchen. “Can I have some?” he finally broke the silence.

Q was filling the kettle, snapping the water off brusquely and setting it on the base. He knew Bond was there, he could feel him watching him. He didn’t even turn his head to look at him. “You don’t drink tea.” 

James slowly nodded his head just once, “well, I’d like to drink tea with you.” 

Q whirled on him. “You know, I was so willing to think you were the one giving me gifts I overlooked obvious things, Eve brought me perfectly brewed tea on the first day, and then she left me brand new tins of my favorite teas and a tea gift subscription, and lavender short bread cookies. You probably don’t even know what type of tea I like.”

“Earl Grey,” James said confidently. 

“Not at night,” Q shook his head. “Only in the morning. I’m making a lighter tea for the evening, with black currant. Are you sure you want that?”

James wasn’t sure he knew what the right answer was here. “Yes?” 

Q nodded, “milk?” 

This time James hesitated a tentative, “no?” He could tell Q was testing him.

Q grabbed mugs from the cupboard and scooped tea into the teapot waiting for the water, not responding to James, his motions were jerky, Q wasn’t comfortable with any of this, keeping his back to James. He could feel James standing behind him, but he stayed quiet giving Q a chance to replay all that happened in the last few minutes. He finally asked, still without turning around, “have you really been seeing a therapist?”

“Yes,” James answered honestly. “Mallory made it required for my return.” 

Q still didn’t turn around. “Did you really come back to MI6 because of me?” 

“Yes… mostly.” He saw Q raise his shoulders a bit at the perceived slight, but James kept going, knowing this might be his one chance. “I missed all of it. I didn’t know who I was without MI6, but I missed you most of all.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Q wasn’t sure he believed all that James was saying. 

James desperately wanted to take a step closer but he could see in Q’s body language that he wasn’t ready. “Because I was afraid.” 

“You?” Q actually turned to face him. Clearly surprised by that answer. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me the way I wanted you?” James said. 

“You’re kidding…” Q huffed and rolled his eyes before turning back to the teapot. “After everything I did for you. The Aston you drowned in the Tiber. The lies I offered to my boss on your behalf. The way I covered for you.”

“I honestly thought you looked out for all the agents like that. That you were just exceptional at your job. That agents always came first with you.” 

“Then you are an idiot.” Q said quietly. 

“I know,” James laughed, “that’s what my therapist said too. Probably wasn’t very professional of her to call a patient an idiot.” 

“And you aren’t always very nice to me Q,” James protested. 

“I know.” Q said in response.

James leaned in closer, “what?” 

Q turned to him again, two steaming cups of tea now poured. “I know. I didn’t want you to know how I felt. I put up walls. I thought if I was too nice to you, you’d figure it out.” 

“I wish I had figured it out sooner.” James chuckled. “I should have. I was ignoring the obvious.” 

“Did you just call me obvious?” Q raised his eyebrows. 

James laughed, “No, sorry, you are not obvious. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just when I look back, now I can see it.” 

Q sighed and looked at his feet, curling his toes in his oversized socks. 

“Come here,” James said quietly, barely loud enough for Q to hear, which had the effect that he wanted. Q had to stop and look up at him to test what he heard. James reached out a hand to Q, “come here… please.” 

Q felt a surge of emotion seeing the look on James’ face and he swallowed hard before he stepped forward, letting James pull him close, dropping his face into James’ shoulder as James wrapped his arms around him and held him. Q didn’t move, letting James hug him tight, he just focused on remembering to breath, feeling overwhelmed and trying to figure out what he was feeling. He wanted this, he had dreamed about this and here he was. He knew he was being difficult. But as they stood there Q finally settled into James’ embrace. James never pushed, he just stood and let Q figure it out. Eventually James turned his head finding Q’s temple, kissing it warmly as he squeezed him tighter. Q finally raising his head to look at the man who he still couldn’t believe was here offering himself. “Kiss me,” James said. 

Q looked at him, reading his eyes, reading his expression. His first inclination still to say no and to pull away. But what he saw in James’ face made him pause, and then ever so slowly he leaned in to kiss him. Tentative at first, James letting Q make all the choices, the slide of their lips, the angle of their mouths, until Q let his tongue slip out ever so slightly to lick across James’ bottom lip. James finally reacted, but it was still Q’s game. James parted his lips but didn’t push forward, inviting Q to explore, and when Q finally did, sliding his tongue into James’ mouth, his mouth going wider, pressing harder, James’ arms wrapped tight holding Q close, and he let Q steal his breath. 

When Q finally pulled away, both men now breathless and panting, James’ whispered, “please take me to bed.” And the turn of the phrase made all the difference. He was giving Q control. This wasn’t James taking Q to bed, but an invitation to let Q take the lead. Q’s eyes darted across James’s face, reading, considering. Until finally he gave the smallest of nods and whispered “yes.” 

“Really?” James said with a grin before leaning in to kiss Q again. 

“Yes… really,” Q sighed. “But not tonight.” 

James pulled back in surprise, “What? But you just said…”

“I said yes. But not tonight.” Q slid his hands up James’ back, feeling the breadth of his shoulders under his fingers. 

“Why not?” James was honestly mystified.

“Because I know if I take you to bed tonight, then I’m going to regret this tomorrow, and likely you would too.”

“Why would you say that?” James asked.

“Because after all the time we’ve known each other, this has never been out there between us. This isn’t something to jump into blindly. And besides then I’ll know what it’s like… being with you… and I’ll regret that it won’t be mine to have again.”

“Why would you think that? You really still think I’m only doing this as an apology don’t you?” James said. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

Q sighed and raised one eyebrow. “Then it won’t matter if we wait. Why don’t we just…”

“Just what?” James prodded him. “Just eat mince pies? Just watch crap Christmas movies?” He let go of Q and stepped back and leaned against the counter behind him.

“Maybe…” Q actually smiled, “would that be so bad?” 

James stared into Q’s eyes, his crinkled in frustration. “Do I have any other options? 

Q pursed his lips sideways in thought, reaching for both of Bond’s hands to take in his, finally feeling like he was getting some control back. “Well, I guess if you don’t want to do those things you could leave? We could see each other at work after Christmas.” 

“Go back to the way things were and pretend none of this happened? That is what you are suggesting?” James asked, his tone edged in frustration. 

“I am, because it’s a valid option. I’m still not sure how we ended up here. I still think I’m going to blink and open my eyes and you’ll be gone. That this is just a dream, like Jimmy Stewart in “It’s a Wonderful life,” do you know what I mean? Your middle name isn’t Clarence is it?” 

James actually laughed and then reached out to tug Q closer, wrapping his arms around him. “You know it’s not. I know you have access to all my files. And I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to pretend this hasn’t happened. I don’t want to go backwards. I want to go forwards… with you.” 

“Then give me time.” Q said quietly, both hands coming up to James’ face, brushing his thumbs over James’ cheeks before leaning in to kiss him quickly before stepping back. “I need time to believe this.” 

“Any way I can help move that along more quickly? Do you want a list of my past boyfriends?”

Q swallowed hard, “how did I not know this?” 

“Because I’ve kept that part of my life private. And I generally have a rule that I don’t sleep with people I work with. I’ve been interested in you for ages Q, but never thought you’d actually be interested in me. I can be a bit of a shit, which you regularly remind me of through my ear piece.” 

“You are infuriating, that is true,” Q nodded, “but you are also amazing.” 

“So are you…” James said, genuine affection in his voice. “I can wait.” 

Q nodded, biting at his bottom lip with his teeth, before smiling broadly. “Thank you,” he whispered as he leaned in to place a kiss to Bond’s mouth, which Bond quickly took advantage of to deepen, sliding his hands down Q’s back to pull their hips together. Q pulled back, “right, I can see this is going to be an ongoing challenge.” 

James laughed and held up his hands. “Sorry. I’ll behave.” He stepped away from Q. “How about food? We should eat. Mince pies won’t hold me for long.” 

“I don’t think take away places are open tonight. It’s Christmas Eve.” Q frowned. 

“I’ll make something,” James said as he reached for the door to the fridge. There wasn’t much inside. He tried the cupboards, which were mostly empty. He turned to look at Q.

“I don’t cook much,” Q said with a shrug. 

“I can tell.” He turned back to the fridge. “It’s okay. I’ll improvise.” Then James turned to look at him again, “unless you aren’t okay with me taking over your kitchen. It’s your flat. I shouldn’t assume.”

“If you want to cook, feel free,” Q waved his hand at the hob. “I will eat whatever you make. Do you want me to help?” 

James looked at him intently before quickly making up his mind and saying “no. Leave me to it. Do you want to clear the dining room table? If I recall, it’s covered in electronics and computer parts.” 

“Sure,” Q said, “but I think I’ll go change first.”

“No!” James said quickly, then laughed, “don’t. I like you like this. Can we just stay like this?” James had taken off his suit coat before he had followed Q into the kitchen, and now he was rolling up his sleeves as he got ready to cook. 

Q furrowed his brow and puffed out his cheeks before shaking his head to himself and mumbling “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” as he turned to go. 

But it was, and it did. Frittata with toast, mimosas concocted from pineapple orange juice and what looked like a really old bottle of crap champagne hiding in the back of the refrigerator. Q and James’ first official dinner together was essentially Sunday brunch at 8:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve. Conversation surprisingly light, mimosas flowing, they kept each other company, slowly learning how to be in each others space when the knowledge of how they felt about each other was actually out in the open. Q cleared and James’ washed, but not before cornering Q in the kitchen to kiss him again, Q coming up panting when James finally relented. James bit at Q’s earlobe as he reached behind him to start the water in the sink. “Go find something to watch and I’ll meet you in the living room.” 

Q nodded, running his hands though his wild hair before swallowing hard, his eyes glazed with want, trying to hold himself together. “Right,” he said as he licked his lips, swollen and red making James raise his eyebrows and purse his own lips together, so tempted to pin him to the counter again. Q could see it in James’ eyes and with his cheeks blushing pink he made a quick escape to the living room, where fifteen minutes later James joined him. 

“So…” James came over to where Q was straightening up the living room. “What’s the plan?” 

“Die hard,” Q said as he turned around and handed James the remote. “You just have to hit play.”

“Die hard?” James raised his eyebrows. “That isn’t a Christmas movie.” 

“Oh yes it is, it takes place during Christmas Eve, and it’s about redemption and forgiveness.” Q had already climbed onto the couch, his legs crossed in front of him, “and it’s perfect for you because lots of stuff gets blown up.” 

James let himself drop onto the couch right beside him, “I have never heard this movie summarized that way. It’s about Bruce Willis throwing Germans out of windows and trying to convince the FBI that he’s one of the good guys.”

“Well, that too,” Q reached over and lifted James’ arm to climb into his personal space. “Just hit play. You’ll see.” Then Q leaned up and sniffed James’ neck. 

“What was that about?” James looked down, his hand ruffling through the birds nest on top of Q’s head. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” Q said affectionately. “Whenever you come to my office, or the lab, you have this scent, but it’s subtle.”

“I smell?” James rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” Q corrected. “Your hygiene standards are generally very high.”

“Except when?” James pestered him.

“Well, I suspect after you blow up a few building and beat up a few villains you occasionally come back a bit grimy and sweaty. But I’ve only ever seen that on the CCTV, you are always cleaned up when you come to see me.” 

“Mmm, ever wonder why I made the effort?” James hummed, burying his nose in Q’s waves, inhaling the lovely scent of Q’s citrus shampoo. 

“Well I assumed it was because you have standards for MI6, but I’m hearing you suggest you did it for me, and that I just didn’t realize it.”

“You’d be right,” James murmured against Q’s temple, kissing the soft skin there. 

Q went quiet. Long enough silence for James to notice. “What is it?” 

Q turned his chin up to look at him, “I wish I had realized it,” he said softly. Then offered his mouth to James for a kiss. 

“We can make up for lost time,” James said quietly, his nose drifting along Q’s neck, inhaling as Q had done to him. “You smell better then I had even imagined.” He felt Q shiver under his nose. “Do you smell like this every where? I bet you smell even better after sex,” James pressed his advantage. 

Q took a breath and swallowed, James could feel his Adam’s apple bounce beneath his lips. “Oh I suspect you’ll find out eventually,” he said quietly.

James sighed, “but not tonight.” 

Q laughed, “no, not tonight. I do give you credit for your persistence. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t keep trying.” 

“Do you want me to stop trying?” James asked. 

Q giggled, and leaned in to kiss James sweetly, before sliding his hands along the edge of James’ shirt, tugging it from his trousers to get at his skin. He felt the muscles in James’ stomach flex beneath his fingers and he laughed mischievously. “I do believe there is an awful lot we could do that isn’t actually sex. Be creative.” Q suggested as he nipped at James’ bottom lip. 

“Now that’s a challenge I’m totally up for,” James smirked, pushing Q backwards onto the couch and tugging his legs down to spread him out below him as he knelt above. Q laughing as his arms flopped onto the cushion above him. 

“Just don’t cross the line,” Q chastised him “or I’m making you wait even longer.” 

“Not much of a threat since I don’t actually know how long you plan to make me wait,” James teased him.

“Good point,” Q said then sighed at the feel of James’ hands sliding up the back of his jumper to curl around his shoulders from behind, the weight of James’ body now pressed to his on the couch. James was very good at seduction and foreplay. 

The cats had given up trying to get spots on the couch and had gone to sleep in the bedroom, the movie still playing unwatched as James continued to tease Q with his tongue, and teeth, and very talented hands. The ugly Christmas jumper was long gone, but the long johns stayed on. James was clearly staying in the safe zone and it was killing Q. “Christ Q, you feel so good,” James murmured into the hollow of Q’s neck. Both men were too stubborn to actually give in. Q on the principle of the matter and James because Q gave him a hard line and he was determined to follow his orders. It was going to be a bloody long night.


	14. Christmas Day

“Now that doesn’t feel quite right?” James mumbled through the fur that was pressed against his face, Ada’s tail laying across his forehead. James was used to waking up in places that were often unfamiliar, and had long ago gotten over the immediate sense of panic most people felt when they couldn’t figure out where they were. Instead he lay quietly for a second, sorting out his senses. He reached up to move the cat tail now starting to swish over his nose, which made her move completely. The light was still low in the room. Bedroom. He was in the bedroom, he was in Q’s bedroom. Memories of last night quickly coming back to him. He reached his hand towards the other side of the bed, suspecting he was alone, then turned to look at the space where he knew Q had slept. The indent in the pillow still fresh, the sheets still warm, but no lithe, long limbed body still sharing the space. Then he heard the shower and he smiled, knowing where he was. 

James was very tempted to climb from the bed and join him, but instead he let out a slow breath and reached for Ada who had climbed onto Q’s pillow, and Alan who was laying by his hip to scruff them both good morning. Q wanted to take this slow, and James was determined not to push too fast. The water went silent and both cats scurried to meet Q at the bathroom door, James guessing this was the normal signal that they were likely to get breakfast. He lay back on the bed, scruffing his hands up his cheeks then through his short cropped hair, thinking how much we wanted a coffee and suspecting his tea drinking quartermaster likely didn’t have any in his flat. He didn’t remember seeing any last night when he had ransacked his kitchen to make dinner. He had been careful to save enough eggs for breakfast, knowing the stores would all be closed today, but if James got his way and they spent the whole day together, he knew he may be forced to go back to his place for additional fortification. Ironic, considering Bond was out of town much more frequently than Q that his kitchen was actually well stocked. He could invite Q to come back with him and they could just lounge there, but he had to admit he liked the cozy feel of Q’s flat, the overstuffed couch, the assortment of books and all those vinyl records Q had in his collection. He thought they could easily spend the day making random selections to listen too, another opportunity to expand his knowledge about his enigmatic boffin. Plus, while he would deny it vehemently if anyone asked, he actually really liked cats and he was quickly growing fond of Ada, the beautiful silver tipped green eyed cat that in her lithe movements and quizzical face reminded him a lot of Q. 

He was deciding on what he would propose for the day, a quick solo run to his place, provided Q actually wanted him to stay all day, he was making an assumption about that which he sincerely hoped was correct, after breakfast, and then…

…and then all his plans were thrown out the window, when Q appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel, his hair slicked back from his face, still damp from his shower. He watched Q take a tentative breath, and then saw the look of purposeful confidence slide onto Q’s face as he smiled…and then dropped his towel. 

“Good morning Q,” James said in delighted surprise. 

“Good morning 007,” Q said in his very Q way, a little posh, a little smooth, and a lot seductive. 

James felt his cock twitch just from the sound of Q’s voice, which really he would admit later, was a fairly common occurrence whenever he heard his voice and sometimes that got him in trouble when he was on a mission somewhere and needed to pay attention to flying bullets. “You seem to have lost your towel.”

Q took a step towards the bed, “very observant of you.” He climbed up onto the bed, pushing back the oversized comforter and shoving aside a few of the pillows he used to make a nest to sleep in when he slept alone, which was pretty much every night, until last night. 

James shifted onto his side, letting Q slip in beside him. “Have you also lost your mind? I thought we were taking this slow.” 

“I can put clothes back on if you want me too,” Q said, “but I woke up thinking I might like to have you as a Christmas present.” 

“The Aston was your Christmas present.” James said, reaching out to run a finger down a still damp arm muscle, Q’s sinewy limbs flexing as he reached to slide a hand under the t-shirt James had stolen from Q’s closet last night to wear to bed. Their agreement to share the bed, but not actually take off clothing had been reluctantly and ridiculously accepted by James. 

“Then what are you, if not my Christmas present? It is Christmas morning after all.”

“Perhaps it would be better to think of me as a new year’s resolution?” James chuckled, feeling emboldened by the long stretch of bare skin his hand now drifted down to find a thin but solid hip between his fingers. 

“Are you suggesting we need to wait for New Years?” Q pulled back to search James’ face, wondering if he perhaps overstepped. James had won him over the night before when he showed he was willing to wait, respecting Q’s boundaries, as ridiculous as they might have seemed. When Q woke up and realized James slept beside him, Q studied him quietly, he watched him breath, studied the relaxed curve of his jaw, the golden line of his eyelashes closed as he dreamed and Q knew he didn’t want to wait. He had wanted James Bond since the first time they had met, and here he was, asleep in his bed on Christmas morning. 

“Absolutely not,” James snickered, as he cupped Q’s plush bum in his wide palm and pulled their hips together. “But I’m still a bit overdressed I think,” 

Q could feel the line of James’ erection pressed against his own, through the thin cotton pajama bottoms he had loaned James the night before. They hung loose on Q, but fit James’ perfectly, if perhaps not a big snuggly, which was fine with Q. 

“I can fix that,” Q said, before finally pressing a kiss to James’ open mouth, to stifle the gasp that escaped when Q slid his hand into the back of James’ pants and squeezed his arse.


	15. New Year, news for MI6

And when Q finally did come back to work, Kasia thought she had never seen Q look happier. “Happy New Year Kasia,” Q said sweetly as he paused beside her desk. 

“Happy New Year sir,” she replied. But then she saw Q’s face actually light up even brighter when James wandered into Q branch a moment later, drifted his fingers through Q’s open palm and leaned in to kiss him sweetly on the cheek as Q turned to head to his office. 

Only a few steps taken, he quickly turned back, “Kasia…”

“Yes boss?” she smiled at him, barely able to contain her glee at seeing that the rumors about 007 and Q were true.

“Thank you,” he said with a small nod. 

She nodded in reply, trying to keep herself under control and not jump up and hug him. 

Two minutes later James came back out of Q’s office and headed straight for her desk. “Kasia!” he said a bit louder then necessary making her just about shriek. 

“YES?!” she answered, “What?” 

James laughed, “sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He leaned a hip against Kasia’s desk, “you don’t by any chance have any more of that gum I gave you for presents before Christmas do you?”

Kasia smiled and opened her side drawer, several packs still sitting on top. “Sure, you need a piece?”

“Two actually if you don’t mind. Q’s complaining that I have garlic breath, and if I have to chew gum, I want him to have a piece too. Can’t kiss him goodbye otherwise.” He winked at Kasia and smiled, his eyes crinkling with happiness. 

“He likes the cinnamon kind,” Kasia winked back and handed him two pieces. 

James laughed, “thanks, I’ll try to remember that.” He took the pieces from her, “and thanks for everything else too. I’m pretty sure he and I wouldn’t have finally figured this out if you hadn’t pulled together that Christmas secret Santa game.” 

Kasia smiled with uncontained glee, “I’m so happy for you! For both of you!” She couldn’t help herself, it just burst out and then she blushed when she spotted Q standing in the doorway to his office, leaning across the door jamb, arms crossed as he watched James. She reached into her desk and grabbed the cinnamon gum, “here, just take the whole pack!” 

Both James and Q laughed, as well as everyone around them as Kasia had managed to draw a bit more attention then Q hoped. But he and James had already resolved they wouldn’t keep this a secret, both too happy to pretend it wasn’t happening. “Come on 007, leave her alone we have equipment to pull together for you. You have a plane to catch.” Q said, “and everyone else… get back to work.” Then he turned one more time, “and Kasia… just so you know I’m not averse to a secret Cupid game in February, but no real arrows.” 

“Got it boss,” Kasia smiled, already making plans in her head.


End file.
